


How It Feels To Be Lost (Kellic)

by Asking4AHorizon



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Heartbreak, How It Feels To Be Lost, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, really toxic actually but they solve themselves, the suicide thing is light tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29590488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asking4AHorizon/pseuds/Asking4AHorizon
Summary: How much do you have to lose before realising what actually matters? How much is enough? Kellin isn't aware of it just yet. Victor figures it out in the worst way.This is How It Feels To Be Lost.This is a collab! But I haven't talked to my partner in a while and don't know their archive account so I cannot list them :)
Relationships: Vic Fuentes/Kellin Quinn





	1. Ghost

A sparkling sun was shining that morning, the skies blue as they rarely had been, and Vic walked down the street with a spring to his step. Snow had molten off the corners of his heart faster than a bullet when he'd met Kellin and ever since -- though life continued to be as unpredictable as ever -- he just hadn't felt those oppressing downs that used to grip him by the collar and drown him in the arctic ocean. At that point, and only a couple months into this cheerful relationship, it was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

As he saw a few dark clouds decorating the horizon, Vic thought it might be useful to get an umbrella if he was planning on continuing his present activities in the afternoon, activities which consisted of buying stupid shit for his boyfriend. Nothing brought him joy like being silly. Kellin was, after all, immensely rich, and most definitely did not need him going around and getting him slime from the dollar store, but it was so funny.

Walking down the alleys of said store, Vic's attention was drawn to a bouquet of chocolate roses with a rose, heart-shaped tag that read "To the moon and back", neglecting the three former words since everyone would already know what they were. He smiled to himself, thinking about the upcoming Valentine's day. That would be the perfect occasion to declare his love.

Though they had been going out for quite a while, Kellin hadn't pronounced The Word yet, and Vic was more than okay with that. Well, sort of. Sort of, because he'd have liked the reassurance, but some people have more trouble saying it than others and... It hadn't been that long... Had it? They'd only been dating for... Six months... Already. Time does fly.

He had luck, that was undeniable. By the time he closed the door, the city streets were getting moistened. And, maybe it was fate, maybe Vic was just a hopeless romantic, but he had time for the last stop before the drenching came. A flower shop. What? Vic couldn't help himself! All the flowers and all the couples he saw were daunting, and his heart begged for a little cliche on that day. So not only had he a lot of useless stuff, but he also had a cute red-rose bouquet.

He smiled while biting his bottom lip, hearing the soft pitter-patters on the dark floor, feeling his heartbeat increase while warmth spread through his chest. He was glowing by the time Kellin showed up.

"Hey-" Kellin started but stopped himself, smiling in confusion while tilting his head. Vic had brought him random, cheap things before, and it was amusing, but this time he held something... More on his hands. Kellin was bewildered, that's for sure.

"Hey, boo," Vic spoke softly. He licked his lips, his gaze getting mischievous. He jogged up to Kellin in small little bounces, standing at least two feet apart from him. Kellin was gazing at him weirdly.

"I brought you some things," Vic smirked fondly. He breathed out, rasing all he shopped with a swift movement while not taking his eyes out of Kellin, by now only expecting Kellin's reaction. Kellin's gaze flickered at Vic then at the flowers. It was a sweet gesture of Vic, it was, but... Why?

"Uh..." And Vic could see his confusion, so he kept smiling, now all soft and cute while looking at Kellin with adoration. Vic shrugged.

"Valentine's day is tomorrow, so I thought I'd get you a little something before," he smiled proudly of himself.

Kellin blinked. "Oh," he was taken aback, definitely. Then he smiled. Big. "God," he chuckled, taking the bags from Vic, "I don't deserve you." He shook his head to himself, having the same heart eyes. Vic shrugged, playing along with a "maybe I don't deserve you." he moved his eyebrows up and down, making Kellin laugh again.

"Mhm, you don't. You deserve more." Vic couldn't catch up on the underlying seriousness in Kellin's tone. He couldn't see the amount of truth that simple phrase held for Kellin. Not yet.

"I think I deserve what I want, and what I want is you," Vic winked, stepping closer, his arms going straight to Kellin's middle, bringing them closer. His fond gaze stayed up at Kellin, that had the most genuine smile of his life. Kellin hummed, hugging Vic closer and dipping his head down, meeting Vic's plump lips.

The thunders made it all even more cliche. The noise of the sky's cries hitting the window became one along with their breaths and the occasional smack of lips, and soon enough, they had to break it off because of Vic's giant grin. Kellin shook his head, also smiling and holding Vic close. But it was a shame that Vic didn't figure out that the sky wasn't crying in happiness for them, but rather dread. The sky broke down in thousands and thousands of drops, much like Victor would.

A shame, truly.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

When you spend enough time with someone, you learn to know what type of person they are, and Vic knew Kellin wasn't really the cheesiest guy out there, but as he woke up alone the following day, he couldn't help the bit of disappointment that settled in his chest. He sighed softly, tossing around for a bit in the cold sheets before reluctantly pulling himself from the bed.

A note awaited on the counter, wishing him a happy valentines' and announcing Kellin had to leave earlier that morning to get his business done, but he'd be back, "hopefully before midday".

Vic nodded, placing the note face down and shivering as his fingertips grazed the cold marble countertop. A loud silence echoed in the kitchen, urging him to take the few steps that separated him from the coffee machine and turning it on, so at least its little clicks would fill the ambient.

A cup of anything warm fixes most issues, to be fair, and by the time Vic was eating breakfast, his troubles were forgotten. The house was pretty quiet, sure, but Kellin couldn't spend every waking hour with him either. What was he expecting? Surely he'd be back quickly enough and they would have a nice little V-day together, like the perfect couple they were.

But every perfect couple have their flaws, because surely enough, it was almost two pm. Vic had melted on the couch with his arms crossed and legs spread out. The hoodie of Kellin's that he took at some point of the day made him look even smaller along with the frown that took the light of his eyes partially. He sighed, for the hundred time that day, but perked up at the sound of the door unlocking. He couldn't be bothered to look at Kellin even when he heard the door lock and a breath hitch.

Kellin traced his tongue over his bottom lip, placing his things on the ground against the wall and moving to the couch. He sat down though he was on the edge, awfully tense, waiting for Victor to fairly punish him somehow for majorly screwing up by yelling or something, though he knew that Victor wouldn't do such a thing.

"Hey," Kellin whispered, apologies twinkling out of his gaze, which wandered all over Victor. All Vic did was hum back, not taking his gaze away from the television, even if he wasn't really watching it. Kellin winced, wrinkling his nose.

"So... Did you had a good day?" Kellin almost smacked himself at the question, but he had to get Vic to say something, anything.

"Oh yeah," Victor scoffed bitterly, "it was... Fun to sit by myself all day on a _Valentine's_ Day." The sarcasm swept straight out of his monotonous tone, the edge of a chuckle following along. His eyes flickered from the television to Kellin quickly before he got back on staring at it.

Kellin frowned then shrugged his lips. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I got caught up with a few stuff and people kept stopping me to talk and I just..." he trailed off. It was always the same excuses. 'I'm sorry, someone held me back. I'm sorry, I had to do this thing I forgot. I'm sorry, I had something _more important_.' Kellin forced himself to relax as he laid back.

None said a thing for a heavy moment before Kellin exhaled once more. He slowly laid his head down on Vic's shoulder, feeling relieved that Vic didn't shrug him off. One hand went to Vic's bicep while the other went to his thigh. He turned his body to face Vic completely.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the apologetic, sorrowful look on his face still so prominent. He did feel bad for taking that long but it wasn't something that was his fault. It was never his fault.

Vic looked at him blankly for a long moment before he sighed, his eyes slipping shut, his head falling back and his arms dropped down, his hands now on his lap.

"It's okay," Vic mumbled. He swallowed, turning his head slightly and opening his beautiful dark eyes to watch Kellin, that still had thousands and thousands of apologies written at Vic in his sorrowful eyes. Victor sighed once more, taking one arm behind Kellin and the other on his opposite shoulder, cradling him in his arms, "it's okay. Don't stress it."

It was a very uncomfortable position but neither really said anything. They stood like that for a few minutes before Kellin got up suddenly and pulling Victor along before dragging him all the way to their room, telling something about wearing 'decent' clothes to Vic and purposefully ignoring Vic.

"Kellin! Talk to me!" Vic exasperated, looking at Kellin like he was done with everything, although curious. "what are you doing and where the hell are we going?"

Kellin rolled his eyes and remained silent until he locked himself in the bathroom to shower. They were both ready in minutes without further out-loud-wondering of Vic's even if Kellin never gave him an answer.

Vic always tried to follow and make Kellin happy with whatever the boy wanted to do, so, when, despite everything, he found himself trailing behind his lover, it wasn't really much of a surprise. In the car, Vic turned the radio's volume up and let his eyes wander out the window, observing as everything melted together when the car had taken velocity and letting his mind run away from his body. Eventually, his daydreaming was cut short by the breaks of the car and Kellin getting out, and Vic forced himself to do as much.

Then, hesitant, he reached towards Kellin's hand, trying to catch it in a gentle grip, accepting an apology that hadn't even been handed out, or maybe Vic was the one apologizing. Yeah, after all, wasn't he overreacting a little bit?

"Kells?" Vic asked as the other man's hand escaped slyly from his touch.

Kellin served him a tight smile. "Come on, we've got stuff to do."

Vic cast his eyes on the ground, speechless. "Well... Okay."

By now, he'd grown accustomed to Kellin's hatred for public displays of affection but, after so long, on valentine's day... Could want to hold hands with one's boyfriend really be so bad?

They went on. Looking around and at the attractions that have been placed near the eating area, they laughed and smiled at each other, though sometimes they were apologetic smiles from Kellin and lonesome chuckles from Vic.

It was difficult to enjoy their time when there was a caving hole between them. They were furthering apart with each time Vic tried to grab Kellin's hand to be shrugged off or how whenever they were close enough for their arms to be brushing Kellin would clearly step away from Vic. It wasn't enjoyable. At all. The rejection was something that Vic never got used to whenever they had to go out in public and at this point it couldn't hurt more.

It wasn't only painful as it was infuriating. Not only was Vic lonely but he was also getting pissed, though he buried it within the tight smiles and the shift of his jaw beneath his skin. Kellin always noticed the mood changes; whenever they managed to finally loosen up, they would get too close for Kellin and he would increase the space between them, the hole he had been creating on their relationship.

It was a vicious cycle. It happened over and over again until it ultimately stopped. Not for the better.

Victor was livid. He had given up on keeping a smile, only staying with a blank face and frowned lips. He needed to cheer up and Kellin's silence did nothing to help.

But then he heard singing. Victor stopped in place before looking towards where the music came from, an idea on his head. He gave no fucks and held Kellin's wrist, dragging him to the mini setup stage. Kellin uncomfortably took his hand away, making Vic's excitement drop a tiny bit before he shrugged it off.

"Uh, Vic? What are you doing?" Kellin asked softly, his rainy gaze flickering between the stage and Vic. He barely glanced at Kellin before a round of applause broke the air and the sweaty, smiling people that were up there got down, wishing them luck. Vic politely thanked them before he went up as Kellin stood there looking completely lost. Vic looked back at him and quirked an eyebrow, making Kellin hesitantly go up those stairs. He gulped, Vic smiled faintly. Relieved, maybe. Because that small thing meant something when it wasn't supposed to.

Vic got on the chair that stood there, waving at everybody that was watching them with his lips curved up. He cautiously grabbed the guitar that sat on the support and, already knowing that someone else was already playing it, he didn't even bother to check the strings.

He brought the microphone closer to his mouth, taking a look at Kellin that sat beside him, nervously bouncing his leg. Victor faced the public again.

"Hi, I'm, uh, Vic and this is my bo-" he stopped himself. No, no he can't tell. He glanced at Kellin that seemed tense enough to snap some veins on his body. "This is Kellin," Victor looked away from the uneasy face Kellin had as soon as their eyes connected. Kellin's stomach clenched as soon as Vic's gaze got heavy, pained, but he did nothing.

"So, as today is a very cheesy day, I'd like to play a very cheesy song as well," Victor forced a mischievous smile, his eyes getting draw to Kellin. "As cheesy as Everything I Do." The energy the cheering that Vic got was enough to make Victor chuckle far more genuinely, not even bothering to look at Kellin's furrowed brows and uncomfortable face. Victor strummed the first chord on the guitar, getting another wave of praising before he set his chair slightly to the side with his feet so it faced the space between the crowd and his company.

And he sang, a few people singing along with him while Kellin didn't even bother to look less out of place. But Vic made it worse.

Vic looked at Kellin at a certain point of the music with so much adoration and love written all over his face, getting up in such a good mood once again, his spirits hyping up with so much fondness for that one man... It was like the bad things couldn't even compare to the good things to Victor. The nervousness and uneasiness seemed to become physical for Kellin, a large lump forming on his throat leaving him unable to breathe but not finding it in himself to look away from Victor.

"There's nothing I want more," Victor sang ever so softly, paying no mind to the acapella that followed his lead. "I would fight for you," and he smiled. He smiled so gently, so lovingly, so purely at Kellin, his eyes getting such a beautiful spark for the first time that day. Even after all the let downs, Victor still couldn't help but smile.

Kellin's breath picked up. He couldn't do that. He needed to leave that place. If this got into the media's ears, they would know and his secret would be out. Shit. _Shit_. But all Kellin could do was stand there, frozen, watching Victor's dark enticing eyes stuck on his until he just couldn't anymore, his paranoia choking him with such tight grip that he was about to throw up. Kellin stood up, getting close to Vic to tell him that he would wait down there, away from Victor but that was a mistake. Kellin leaned in just as Vic finished singing "Everything I do, I do it for you," strumming the last final sets of chords.

In Vic's head, Kellin wasn't there to leave, he had ignored Kellin's discomfort just like Kellin had ignored Vic's feelings so far. Vic didn't think much, really, all he saw was Kellin face getting closer to his cheek. Too lay a kiss on it, maybe, to show him appreciation, to show him love but Victor had other plans. He turned his head, placing his lips on Kellin's.

A wave of applause and shouting came yet it was so easily to get stuck in their own little worlds, both their heartbeat increasing, but for different reasons.

All Vic could think was about the warmth that easily bloomed through his chest, spreading all the way to his fingertips, his lips and cheeks tingling, the adrenaline that flushed in a way that Victor could conqueer the world if he wanted to, his stomach twisting with the most beautiful kind of love, of affection.

All Kellin could think was 'what the _fuck nonononono shit,_ _no_!!!' His chest became so tight, throat closed off, his brain turned off, his hands shook slightly. Kellin was going to throw up. He stopped thinking.

His hands quickly found Vic's chest. 

Kellin pushed him as hard as he could. He couldn't breathe.

Kellin stepped back, staring at Vic in such deep horror and _disgust_ as if he had just cold-bloodedly killed someone with a smile. Vic fell from the chair, breaking the guitar's arm in the process. It was all so fast and everything went so loud for a moment before turning quiet so quickly that the change of mood came with a ringing in their ears.

Vic didn't meet Kellin's eyes at any point, even if Kellin begged him with his mind. The regret of pushing him away already began pooling around his guts, though the _hate_ did too. 

Turns out the panic was overpowering his rational side. He couldn't stop shaking.

Victor pushed himself up slowly, the hundred of pitiful eyes heaving on his back painfully. His gaze never once left Kellin's shoes, but when it did, when Vic finally met his eyes, Kellin wished he hadn't. He couldn't control his mouth.

"What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you!" Kellin shouted. He really didn't mean to, especially when he saw how _hard_ Vic flinched, how quickly the edge of his nose flushed, how easily Vic's eyes began tearing up. The air shifted so quick that people held their breath, afraid of breathing too loudly.

Vic said nothing, he didn't need to. There was nothing to say. His eyes glazed over even though he held himself from cracking right there. 

Not because he was in front of hundreds of people but because he wouldn't forgive himself if he allowed Kellin to see the wound that he had craved on soul, wouldn't forgive himself for letting Kellin see how hurt he actually was, how rejected and how quickly his head went underwater into the self-depreciating Victor was becoming. Victor turned around swiftly, not really caring anymore. Why would he bring himself to care when the one he did it for couldn't care any less?

He jumped out of the stage and he ran. He ran as fast as his tears dropped, hearing the sky hollering the way he felt like he was about to. Victor stopped at the main entrance of the shopping quickly seeing a taxi and he got in without a second thought. He whispered the address because he knew if he spoke louder he would break right then and there, his voice choked down, his eyes so pitifully distraught. The taxi driver took him home with an empathetic heart, glancing from time to time to see Vic's red-rimmed eyes, his trembling bottom lip and, flushed face. Vic thanked the guy and paid him as fast as he possibly could before rushing up the stairs and locking himself on their house, mindful of the vultures so quickly hovering above him. his chest ached so ridiculously much, throbbing and pinching in such way that Victor was sure his heart was about to give in.

His head was a whirlwind as he rushed into the small room, his foot hovering for a second over the tile. A lone drop of water fell from the tap to the bottom of the sink. The door gently pushed him back to reality, his foot touching the ground and immediately, his hand pulling the door shut with a smack. Vic's back was pressed up against the door, his breath choppy, his eyes glassy. Fucking hell. His hands went to his chest, grabbing where his heart should be as if it hurt deep inside.

And then, he allowed himself to fall to the floor.

And forth came the waterworks.

An hour. Vic knew because he was counting the minutes with the ticking of his watch, no emotions remaining in his veins. He almost felt like the blood had run back into the pump that was his heart.

"Vic, Vic, where are you?!" Asked Kellin's voice, fucking finally, from the other side of the door, a hysteric edge to it, but if there was once thing Vic didn't feel like doing, it'd be responding to those pleas.

He simply sat there on the tile floor, staring at the empty bathtub, thinking awful things inside that little head of his.

On the other side, gray eyes harbored all of the panic in the world as two feet with their own consciousness carried the boy back and forth in every room, trying to find his lover. He'd made sure to carefully wait before following his boyfriend, lest people get suspicious, which just made him feel even grosser, he who had no idea what was currently happening on the other side of the white door, but now pretty sure Vic was in there.

"Can we just talk?" Kellin asked, his voice going higher at the end, almost pleading, almost squeaky.

A silence followed.

"What took you so long?" Vic asked, his voice flat. He knew the answer, he just wanted to know whether Kellin was ready to admit it.

Another drop of water fell down the drain.

"I... Didn't want people to see."

Silence again.

Vic hummed softly. "Cool."

"No, I know it's not... I just. I don't know what to do about it. Do you get it? I just... Don't fucking know!"

"No. I don't get it, actually. Most of us aren't insanely famous, you know." Vic chuckled sadly.

"I...."

"But it's cool. It's fine. I just... Need to get over it and then, everything will be fine."

"It's not, Vic, please, let's talk this out."

"No, for real, don't worry about it. Just give me some time."

Kellin hesitated, of course he did. He wasn't about to let Vic slip away even further, but he only sighed, resting his head on the door and muttering an 'okay'.

"I'll... I'll be in the living room if you need me," his eyes fell shut, the desperation unable to soothe down even though he knew Victor was still there, even though he knew Victor was just outside that door. His heart couldn't help but silently beg Vic to ask him to stay.

A little hum rumbled Vic's throat, his whole body deflated, joints aching for staying such long time in that same position. Kellin shoulders dropped, his eyes went dull. 

He really didn't mean to become this. He was sorry, he was so damn sorry.

Kellin stood straight, scrunching his face while looking at the door pained. He exhaled, grabbing a pillow and shutting the door not necessarily loud but audible enough to Vic, going to lay on the couch, allowing the devil in his head.

Vic took a while to get up, unable to find the energy, not even daring a glance at the mirror because he knew that it would be too much for him. He slowly dragged himself to the bed and flopped down. He laid on his back, dull eyes stuck on the ceiling.

It was everything, just like he had everything, but at the same time, it seemed so... Empty. So void of life, so funny-less. It was tiring. Maybe in the morning, he would feel stupid for feeling like a fucking ceiling but it wasn't important then, he just needed to feel more; to feel anything other than the weight that sat on his chest and the emptiness, anything other than the cold. He needed to feel.


	2. Dying To Believe

Kellin eventually fell asleep where he was, hugging the pillow close to him instead of placing it under his head. He didn’t have the will to get up and get a blanket, honestly, and feeling as shitty as he did, he didn’t feel like he deserved one either. He was all cracked up inside, like a porcelain doll fallen from her wooden throne, head split on the crude reality that awaited a couple feet further down.

When he woke up, his first reflex would’ve been to check the room to see if his lover was in there, but instead, and since he wanted to be forgiven so ardantly, he jumped to his feet and practically jogged to the kitchen, where he occupied his hands with making coffee and pancakes, only hoping Vic was still home and hadn’t decided to go somewhere else, somewhere where they may treat him nicer or something.

‘Treat him,’ Kellin thought ‘as he deserves to be treated’

Quite honestly, at first, the thought didn’t bother him much, but the more he let it wander his mind, the more his hands trembled when making the coffee, to a point where he had to stop because his brain was making elaborate scenes where someone else grabbed his boyfriend’s hands, where someone else spoke softly to him, and he saw them so clearly. Maybe it was a boy, maybe it was a girl, maybe it was neither, but they were so close to each other in the eye of his mind, almost a unity, and Vic would smile, and probably chuckle too, easily, easy like he never had with Kellin. In this unreality, he’d be careless, he’d sing love songs and get praised for it. They’d walk outside hand in hand without a care in the world. And there was Kellin, so far away, a mere spectator of the events, palms pressed white against an invisible glass pane.

“Stop, jesus.” He scolded himself softly, shaking his head to chase the thoughts away. “Vic wouldn’t do that to you.”

‘No, he’s way too kind for that.’ He’d answer himself internally. ‘But someone can only take so much bullshit. One day he’ll snap.’

His eyes stung like there was sand on them and his mouth tasted shitty. The noise from downstairs pissed the hell out of Victor. He spent the whole night up, just thinking, and while a part of his head had almost forgiven Kellin, the other knew best. That one part had cracked. Vic was tired and maybe that's why he was as pissed as he was, or maybe it was because of the twirling rage growing from deep within his core. Victor heard and he got so fucking annoyed because he knew who was downstairs, doing god knows what, pretending like life was fucking perfect when it fucking wasn't. Victor leapt out of the bed, not even bothering with his hygiene and rushed downstairs, his face falling blankly like an unused canvas. Only he had been used far too fucking much.

He didn't even say good morning or any bullshit, he only crossed his arms, making noise enough for Kellin to know he was there.

"We need to talk."

Kellin turned around, a mug of hot latte in one hand and the pan in the other, sliding the last pancake on top of the others on one of the plates he'd bought especially for when they moved in together. He used to only have two plates and a mug, that he'd wash as often as needed, but as he lived mostly alone and was shit at cooking and baking, it didn't happen so often at all. Most times, back then, he'd live off ramen, but, you know, the expensive one, not like, Mr Noodles.

When Vic came along, it changed things. Kellin wanted to be good for him, to be more than just the half-broken thing that remained of him back when. Kellin had seen an individual capable of such good in those chocolate eyes, and he wanted to reciprocate. He remembered in detail going to shop for cutlery and whatnot, his mind on his lover, his lips in a wide smile.

Now, they arbored that same smile, but tighter, his eyes almost like he had to smile or else he’d break.

“I made you pancakes!” Kellin said, voice a little too upbeat.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows, his glare getting even more intense as he took a deep, shaky breath.

"Kellin." Don't fucking dismiss me like you always do. Victor's fingers curled around his biceps harder as he stood straight. "We _need to talk_." He exhaled as a way to control himself. Victor ignored the plate being stretched on his way, ignoring the urge to slap it and to scream his throat raw.

“S-sure, we can talk, what do you want to talk about, love?” Kellin responded, faux-hopefulness in his tone. He never used pet names usually, but now, it called for such sweetness. His heart was beating like it wanted to escape his chest, too many emotions swimming in his head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I-I, let me sit down yeah, I’ll um, drink a coffee, and... You should too. Here.” He pushed a mug his way, hands shaky.

Vic stared at Kellin with his blank face, almost dumbfounded. He lowered his arms and stared at the mug, his eyes flickering back and forth at Kellin and the cup.

If he raised his arm would be to backhand it.

He finally settled his gaze on Kellin's.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare to play fucking dumb, don't you dare to... to dismiss me again," Vic almost whispered, knowing that he was about to lose his shit, placing both his hands on the counter, leaning onto it, his glare getting heated by the second. "Cut the fucking bullshit." Although his voice was monotone, there was an edge to it that exposed the anger and frustration, the fucking loneliness and the fucking destruction.

“Vic, we can still fix this...” Kellin started harboring his prettiest puppy eyes, his hand reaching to rest on top of Vic’s. “Darling, I’m sorry, I really, really am, but please...” He stuttered out, his breathing uneven. He’d never felt so fucking horrible in his whole life, he felt like his world could shatter in the split of a second now.

Vic narrowed his eyes. His jaw was clamped so hard it ached. He pulled his hand away harshly, ignoring the way that Kellin winced and his eyes widened. He felt accomplished. The tables have turned, haven't they? Victor was done. He wasn't about to bite his tongue and keep suffocating on Kellin's fears and being a little secret any longer. He was done choking himself to sleep.

"If you were fucking sorry you wouldn't keep doing it over and over again," Vic whispered harshly, his eye twitching. He has finally cracked, and maybe he would regret the amount of everything he was about to say, but not yet. Right then, it was all beyond therapeutic, it was all for the best.

Kellin had never felt like it was a real possibility for Vic to choose to leave him, and now he was reeling. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?” He said, choked up. Inside, a mantra of “please don’t”s occupied his mind, but here he was, on the edge of the cliff, knowing Vic would soon push him off and that he’d deserve it fully, and he couldn’t help but spread his arms in anticipation.

Leaving. Leaving was something that crossed his mind every now and then, although most of the time it involved taking Kellin with him but now Kellin was the one he needed to get away from. "Tell me why I shouldn't." Leaving would be hard because he wouldn't just up and leave, he would lose his goddamned heart and his goddamned soul along because, after all, he gave them to Kellin. Victor needed anything to hold onto, a last ray of hope even if he knew he was leaving. He just needed to see if he could contemplate staying.

Kellin sighed softly, his lips forming a thin line. “You should leave.” He said softly, eyes like a kicked puppy’s, posture like a kid who just got told their mom died. “I’ve been utter shit to you ever since the start. It’d be selfish for me to hold you back, I just never thought what happened would happen.” He let the silence win over, looking deep into Vic’s eyes, letting his own water a little bit, but squeezing the tears back in. He didn’t want this to look like a guilt trip, maybe he was a shit boyfriend but he wasn’t a **shit** boyfriend.

For a second, Victor let his guard down. For a second, there was nothing but betrayal covering his face, nothing but pained disbelief. For a moment, Victor believed he was worth it. "Huh," Victor whispered. "It's good to know that you can let me go without a second thought," he gazed at Kellin for a moment longer, his eyes still distraught, still hurt, still pleading for something, pleading for Kellin to just say something. Pleading for Kellin to fight for Vic like Victor fought for Kellin.

But nothing came. In a flash, Victor was jogging up the stairs, throwing all his clothes on the bed along his luggage. He wouldn't admit how easily his eyes watered, his nose flushing and his chest tightened so hard that Victor couldn't feel the blood pumping over his body anymore. He could, though, hear the sound of his heart breaking, could taste the bitter venom of defeat, could see the good moments flighting through his sight before the bad crushed them.

He was disappointed. He expected Kellin to at least try instead of pushing him further. His face got wet and Victor got distracted momentarily by the little crashes of rain coming from outside.

Kellin was old now, too old to break down like he would have back then, in the days of his teens, where he’d have done anything, gone to sick lengths just to keep Vic around, maybe, back then, he would’ve told him things like ‘my life means nothing without you’, or ‘I might as well die if you’re not around’. Kellin knew best though, now. He kept his dramatic self caged behind steel bars, and it was out of.... out of love. For Victor. Because he wished him the best, and the best wasn’t with him. He sat back down slowly, his eyes travelling to the window where drops of water made their way to the floor, to crash and be destroyed by the harshness of the concrete.

A quiet sob made its way to his throat, so he hid himself behind his hands, taking a slow, unsteady breath. ‘Okay. You can make it through this. Just until Vic is gone. Come on.’ He forced himself to think, trying not to let anything else into his mind. Only the noise of the storm raging outside. Rain. Rain. Go away.

Kellin was counting the seconds he had left, the seconds that separated what his life had been to what it would be, and each one seemed dreadfully long and way too short simultaneously. He wasn’t ready to let go, but Vic had already slipped past him.

And then there he was, everything in hand, ready to leave, standing in the kitchen beautiful as ever and wrecked like Kellin had never meant for him to be, so it was stronger than him, and even had he bit his tongue to blood, even had that blood been dripping down his chin and neck, even had his nails carved graves inside his palms, he couldn’t have buried the words dying to escape his throat at that very moment. It was something feral that possessed him, a need he’d never felt before.

He surged forward like a cat upon an unknowing mouse, gripping Vic’s arm with care yet force, not looking to hurt, only channeling the desperation of two decades spent in utmost solitude.

“Vic, Vic I’m sorry, I-I never planned to be in love w-with someone like you... A-A guy. I-I can’t be dating a faggot, do you get it? I can’t be this fucking monster you’ve made of me.” He uttered.

Victor's lips parted, his face contorting once again no matter how hard he tried to keep a poker face. His face flushed harder and his eyes got glassy, his eyebrows furrowing so hard it hurt. Victor's bottom lip trembled and he took short breaths. It hurt. It fucking hurt. The moment Kellin grabbed his arm his hope went to the godforsaken ceiling but then Kellin had to open his goddamn mouth. Kellin didn't shut his mouth and made a beautiful thing so disgusting. Kellin managed to make something Vic appreciated so dirty and hateful, he made love be fucking gross. He turned to Kellin fully, shaking his head ever so slightly, his face holding disbelief as his hands began trembling.

"Why can't you get over the fact that I have a fucking dick? What the fuck, Kellin," Victor let out in a heavy breath. He could barely hold his body up, feeling so much hurt over his entire soul that Victor couldn't feel his soul.

"So you like sucking dick, what's so fucking wrong with it? It's 2019 for fuck's sake." His voice broke all through the phrase. "Get over it, you are a fucking faggot too!" His voice raised but it cracked along a choked sob from him, his body about to collapse. It was too much.

Kellin grabbed Vic’s face then, letting go of his arm, his cold hands going for the boy’s cheek, thumbs rubbing away the tears as if he could dry all of them. “Don’t cry.” He choked out, putting all his might into those two little words, as if his world depended upon it. “J-just go.”

Vic couldn't do it anymore. He took Kellin wrists and pushed it away forcefully, stepping back, feeling his back hit the door, and he let go.

"Why?" He cried out, "What did I do to deserve this?!" He shouted, his throat burning. His hands went to his hair, tugging softly at his locks. "Why don't you want me anymore?" He breathed out, sobbing and whimpering, "what- what did I do wrong?" His legs shook, he almost slid down that door.

Almost. But then it came, a last shock of rage that pushed Victor up straight despite how hard his body was trembling, breathing so heavily.

"Fuck this!" He exclaimed, "I hope you live your life fucking miserable, you fucking... You fucking... Agh!"

Kellin just stood there, not a word more escaping his lips. In fact, there were millions of things he wanted to say, but every single one of them stayed stubbornly behind his teeth, one hand rubbing his wrist, almost hugging himself as he watched the apocalypse unfold before his eyes. It didn't hurt so much as he just felt like that had probably been his last physical contact with what could easily have been his soulmate.

There’s nothing as pretty as someone’s back when they leave you behind, especially when they leave for the last time. The sun was shining through the dark clouds now, illuminating Vic’s hazelnut hair, reminding Kellin of all the nutella toast they had, all the silly moments, all the coffees they enjoyed together, and the laughter. Everything he was letting go of. He’d never felt like he’d felt with Vic, and now he had to conjugate all his verbs to the past tense.

“Well, I hope you find happiness.” Kellin responded, not knowing whether Vic heard him, or even whether he was listening.

Vic didn't even bother to turn around, already cursing himself for breaking down like that. That wasn't even his worst, he still had so much to let out yet he didn't. He raised his middle finger at Kellin, getting on that elevator and allowing himself to slip one last look at him. He knew that when he looked at Kellin his face fell even more, he knew by Kellin's expression, but it got even worse as the doors closed and he couldn't see Kellin anymore. He let go, sobbing so hard that he was heaving and weeping his heart out even if no matter how many tears he shed, it was still aching. The floor seemed to cave in and pull Victor down, the world hovered over his shoulder about to smother him, his lungs losing their function. Victor was forfeited like never before.

He threw his things in the car and with his foggy mind, he didn't know how he made it to the nearest bar, but he did. He was on automatic. Vic did know though, that he drank. He got shit faced and for a moment, he wasn't as speechless. He wasn't sober, he wasn't in pain. The world hadn't crashed down on him and burst into flames, everything was fine for a second.

The moment Vic walked out, Kellin had no reason to keep up the facade anymore. He fell to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and tugging on his hair as hard as he could to keep himself grounded as he cried his heart out. And then he had no more tears, and it was just silence. Pure silence. Silence and he, dancing an invisible waltz. The darkness was quick to surround him, but Kellin didn’t mind. For once, Kellin didn’t mind.

His whole life, he’d spent it trying to be this perfect boy everyone would love, and being straight was part of the things he had to check off. Maybe then his parents would accept him, when he came back with a beautiful, wealthy woman and an amazing career, with a suburban house and a golden retriever and the american dream under his hand.

And here he was, a pathetic wreck of a man. The remains of an egoistic fuck who couldn’t keep his lover around.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to himself, to Vic, to his parents, to whoever wanted to hear it. He just wanted out, but for today, blacking out would suffice. But there just wasn’t enough Jack’s in the cupboards. Maybe he could call someone over, someone who was used to partying hard and would provide him whatever he wanted so long as he stopped crying like a bitch. Who knows. For now, though, he didn’t have the energy to pull himself off the ground so alone and sad he remained, and eventually, cold and hungry, too.


	3. P.S Missing You

Months had gone by. It was tough. Everything was grey. Kellin hadn't slept in forever. The bags were starting to be defined under his eyes. Like they were a new part of his face. Kellin was tired. Everything was grey. Months had gone by. It was tough.

Kellin turned off the tv. He dragged himself to the closet. He got dressed. He drove to the interview. Noises melted into each other to form one screen of constant static. Black. White. Black. White. Everything was grey. Kellin was tired.

The guy asked a question.

"Huh? Sorry, I zoned out."

"Well, mister Quinn, we're not too good at listening, are we?"

'Stop being a fucking bitch.' "Sorry, _I zoned ou_ t. Can you please repeat?"

"I said, any last declarations before we end this show."

"Yeah. I'm gay."

Noise. Static. Black. White. Grey.

"Pardon me? I don't think I heard very well."

"Well, we're not too good at listening, are we?" Kellin spat right back. "I am gay. I'm a homosexual. I have a boyfriend." He did not. "I love to suck big juicy cock. Are you content? Is that enough? Have you gotten every little detail from my private life yet? Will it make the headers of every single gossip magazine tomorrow, huh?! You got it!! This is me! I'm unfiltered! Here I am! I'm a fucking faggot too!" He got worked up. Then they pulled him away, but. He didn't quite remember why.

Black. White. Static. Grey. Live tv. Kellin smiled, bitter and triumphant. He was tired. It was tough. He turned the handle. He. Turned the handle. And there he was. In the bathroom. Facing the mirror. Bad lighting. Looked like a zombie. Every trait etched into his face brutally. Everything was grey. He was so tired.

•

The whiskey didn't burn as much as it did in the start, sliding down his throat as easy as water but fucking up his insides far more than it. Victor stared at the same wet spot on the same wall he had been staring for the last month, face as vague as it had been. Why did he keep torturing himself over and over again like that? Victor's eyes lazily flickered back on the television.

Kellin was still as beautiful as he always has been. Vic sighed. The different glint in his stare didn't change that, he was still just as handsome. His cheeks and eyes looked sunken even under the thousands of layers of makeup, but he was still as gorgeous. The bottle pressed down over rough chapped lips, spilling its insides down his throat again.

"Yeah. I'm gay."

It took him seconds, minutes even to understand those words. Vic spat his whiskey. Even in his gone state of mind, he knew that that was big. He straightened himself the most he could, getting his feet out of the coffee table and letting the magazine with his ex-lover's face all over it fall on the ground, his mind spinning from the dizziness. Took a deep breath, his eyes slipping shut, ears ringing. But he forced himself to recompose, to listen. He wished he hadn't.

A boyfriend. Kellin had a boyfriend. It took a month for him to come out with someone else but he had to keep Vic locked in a pandora box with his deepest secrets. A boyfriend. Vic stood up far too quickly, stumbling back on the couch before forcing himself to stand and chugged all of the liquid inside the bottle.

It was half-way full.

He went out. He needed something stronger, something that would make those words, that smile, from repeating on his head like a broken record. The weed he had wouldn't be enough. Maybe the guy who sold it to him would have something stronger. The sun glared at him warningly, prickling at his sickly-looking skin how it hadn't for a long time. He ignored it. The walk wasn't all that long, a block or so but to Victor, it took Everlong.

It hurt like fucking hell.

He needed something strong.

°

Kellin sat sprawled on his couch, watching as people commented on his revelation. It was surprisingly not as bad as he thought it would be. People were being rather supportive; it made him feel stupid for being so afraid but there was always that voice in the back of his head, that lingering fear, that lingering doubt. People were not only supportive, but they also theorized a lot about who his supposed boyfriend would be. And it sucked. For a while, he regretted saying that he had someone. Oh well, he couldn't do much to change that then, could he?

The knock on the door cut off the daze he was in, his head tilting to the side, watching the door with foggy eyes. It had been four days since he came out.

Kellin got up slowly. His heart always leapt whenever someone knocked on the door, his core always pleading for Vic, expecting to see his tanned face and that absolutely adorable smile of his with his sparkling chestnut eyes. He was always left in pain and disappointment when he saw it wasn't. He was still surprised when he opened the door though, coming face to face with a familiar face.

"Mike?"

Michael didn't say anything. He tried his best to keep a straight face, he came to have a civilized conversation, but when he saw Kellin's features, he couldn't help it. His eyes narrowed and he snarled, clenching his jaw harder. He didn't even think when his hands found Kellin's shoulders and pushed him hard, making him stumble back into the apartment in surprise. Michael invited himself in, slamming the door behind him.

"You are a motherfucker, you know that?" His voice was too upbeat to match his expression hateful expression. "And I really wish that I could beat your stupid ass black and blue," Mike towered over Kellin, fisting his loose shirt and pulling him close, hard, his snarl getting a flinch from Kellin

Kellin barely did anything but watched Mike pushing him like a doll, too surprised, his mind slacking out on the situation. He couldn't process exactly the fact that Michael, Victor's brother, was right there. Mike held Kellin's limp body like it weighed nothing; at this point, it was possible.

"But I can't ruin your fucking face. Unfortunately." His heated glare seemed to turn Kellin's already burnt soul into ashes to be blown away by the wind. The fire that burned in his eyes, the rage and pain that he held on his soul was enough to make Kellin deflate even more.

He dragged Kellin all the way to the sofa, pushing him down on it too harshly, getting Kellin's delayed instincts to flare up but he held them back, just grunting and straightening himself. Michael didn't go to Kellin after that, he just began pacing around, going to the end of the table then near to the other end, walking in circles.

"Well," Mike huffed. "As much as I'd love to punch you, I don't think that my stupid brother would appreciate it, " he started. Unlike Vic, Mike would say all that he had to and he would force people to hear him if they needed to, as he did with Vic.

But Victor was a different case now.

He wouldn't listen, he was barely conscious half of the time. Mike knew that Vic wasn't only drunk, he was doing something more; Mike just thought that he would know better than to use fucking heroin. As soon as Mike found out, he searched around and threw all kind of shit he found barely hidden away and got on the road, leaving a friend of his to watch Victor. As much as he tried to avoid, he knew that it would be better if Kellin and Vic talked; Victor needed closure so maybe he could realise how fucking shitty he was being.

"That stupid man is under your fucking spell. And you are such a fucking idiot too, what the _fuck_ do people see in you?" He stopped in front of Kellin, crouching down a little. "You are going to fix the shit you've made," Michael pointed a finger close to Kellin's face but his mind was too overwhelmed. Victor. Victor. Victor.

"I don't know how but you will." His glare was enough to murder. And maybe he saw that Kellin wasn't exactly living in the clouds. His eyes didn't sparkle like they used to, gaze far too hooded, far too fogged, the skin under his eyes far too purple, face too dull. Maybe Kellin had it as bad as Vic had but was dealing with it in a different way. Mike softened for a second before he straightened up, crossing his arms sternly.

No. Kellin brought this over himself. Victor didn't.

"Let's go, you gonna talk to him." Mike kept his face blank. "and it's not a question, you are coming with me."

Getting shoved around, while it wasn't Kellin's pass time, was definitely something he could get behind in his current state, but the urgency in Mike's endeavor pushed him not to try and fight him just to get more hurt. The mention of the man's brother chilled his blood. No. No no no. The point of him getting out of Vic's life was that everything would be picture perfect afterward...Right? That's how life works?

Kellin trailed behind Mike, nervous as hell, not saying a peep. Still, if anything, maybe Vic had been really sad or something, Kellin imagined, which is why Mike came to him. Maybe. Kellin didn't want to imagine a worse scenario.

Mike was silently seething the whole way down. He was definitely not pleased by having the one who broke his brother with him, but it was for the better. He got in the car slamming the door behind him, watching as Kellin scurried in like a dog. In Mike's eyes, Kellin wasn't a dog, he was pure garbage and he should have been the one to be thrown away like he was nothing.

The drive to Mike's house was silent at first, but Mike still had so much to say, the memory of his brother's limp body, almost dead burned behind his eyelids and shit, it fucking hurt. His huff broke through the heavy air, his eyebrows twitching.

"Why?" He spoke out of the blue, almost making Kellin jump, "Why did you do that? Why the fuck did you hurt him like that?!" He spat, the corner of his mouth curling in distaste. "I don't know what the fuck goes through your goddamn head but he didn't deserve that," his voice faltered, his face losing the anger, leaving space for the agony. "He didn't deserve to suffer over a fucking bitch like you," Mike's face flushed, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. "And he especially didn't deserve to end up fucking-" he cut himself out, choking on the damned tears that by now was threatening to fall. Mike started taking deep breaths.

Kellin's face fell with each word as he turned his whole body to face Michael, a lost and scared expression falling onto him. Kellin was afraid, so afraid that he couldn't breathe. He swallowed down the guilt that had been haunting him ever since Valentine's Day, barely finding his voice.

"What-" he breathed out, "end up what?" He spoke in a soft whisper, his heart clenching desperately inside his chest. His soul was longing to know the damage he caused so he could torture himself even more. Grief already had the tightest grip on his neck and his guts were already drenched in sorrow. He couldn't feel his lungs.

"You'll fucking see, " Mike spat again, not even bothering to hide his tears any longer.

Each step that separated the car from the door was neverending. The distance is so big when you're in a hurry, and Kellin just wanted to see Vic, to fix whatever he could fix, to salvage whatever could be saved, if any of that remained. His retinas were a strip of negatives on which the present got imprinted, the saturation hurting the darkroom behind his mechanical eyes. The trees seemed so lively, and Kellin felt so dead, decaying with each step forward. His blood was draining down by the gravity of the situation, metaphorically, but literally, it was a rush to the head in all of the worst ways, he could feel it being pumped by the vein in his forehead with the sharpness of a flash, of a shutter and click.

And then his fingertips got to the handle. He didn't know where they were, but this wasn't where Vic used to stay, and Mike wanted him to open the door, since there he stood, motionless, his eyes indicating that it was his responsibility now. That whatever awaited behind the red-painted object, he'd have to handle it by himself. Kellin retracted his hand, knocking though a perfect doorbell was right there beside him. Touching wood.

At first, nothing happened and that seemed to leave Kellin even more uneasy. Then a man opened the door. His guarded stare wandered between Kellin and Mike before he tilted his head slightly, eyeing Kellin up and down before the shadow of a frown formed on his forehead.

"C'mon, they need to talk." The dude nodded once, glaring Kellin down, stare uneasily threatening. Tony stepped away from the house, both watching as Kellin hesitantly walked further onto the house. His heart drummed frantically inside his chest, his breaths short, his body far too heavy for him to walk. Kellin took a glance back at the men, receiving hard stares only. He didn't have the support he needed then. Kellin gulped, getting inside the house. His knees almost gave out as soon as he did, the smell crashing him down. He forced himself to keep walking.

The place was a mess. Things were scattered everywhere, you had to watch your steps otherwise you would slip. The curtains were open, leaving a patch of sunlight illuminating what could have easily been mistaken for a dead body. Victor had his far too thin arm over his eyes, his pounding head worsening with the light that glared at him too. Everything seemed to glare at him nowadays.

Kellin had missed him so fucking much. Even if he couldn't see his eyes, Kellin still could have a great look over Vic. His whole body seemed one with the couch. His clothes looked baggier than they ever were, he looked so fucking skinny with his sunken in cheeks and thin wrists and paler skin, which also held all kinds of bruises. He had a stain on his shirt and he reeked, he looked like a mess.

Kellin slowly crouched down by Vic's feet, his face falling even harder than before, staring at Victor so sorrowful, so agonized, so hurt. He was frowning, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, that travelled all over his ex-lover, his parted lips couldn't take enough oxygen.

"Tony, please," Vic's voice whispered, cracking too much, his mouth far too dry. "I needa be 'lone." Kellin's eyes went at where Vic's eyes would be and he begged. He spoke so much in his head, apologized too hard, cried so much. He needed to see Vic's eyes, he needed to see the light behind them. He would never forgive himself if it wasn't there, he wouldn't forgive himself for taking the light behind his eyes. He would never forgive himself for taking Vic's light.

When Vic didn't feel who he supposed it was Anthony moving, he took his arm away with a small groan, raising his head to glare at whoever that stood there. It was a surprise to him, coming face to face with those bluish-green eyes that haunted him day and night, tearing him to the smallest pieces.

Lately, the time had been passing in the weirdest of ways for Vic. It was all mushed up in one big pile of memory-loss, he just knew time had passed for sure. The past few days have been mellow, gentle, a little breeze, an unexplainable feeling of euphoria, deeply opposed to the shitty mood alcohol would put him in. And then, he couldn't do stuff drunk, he couldn't show up to events, he couldn't coexist with someone else. Heroin had that upside that people would have a hard time noticing. He balanced the two like one tries to balance a dead weight and a feather, juggling with chugging his weight in scotch, dealing with the hangover, then ruining his veins.

Another magic thing about the drug is that he didn't feel hungry, he didn't feel, in fact, anything at all but mellow. Alcohol, however, made sure to empty his stomach as soon as he came down from it. It was a killer combination.

"What are you- What are you doing here?" He questioned, frowning and crawling backward a little bit, his speech slurred and his eyelids heavy, whispering a "Fuck." as a shard made its way inside his palm, but he was too busy staring at Kellin to notice, a string of blood trickling down to the ground.

It was odd, how, despite everything, and with his mind foggy as it was, the light that illuminated Kellin's hair made it seem a little like a halo, which hurt his poor tortured eyes but warm his soul. "Am I in heaven?" Was his next question, his eyes shooting to his arms, or what remained of them, tones of purple and blue bruises decorating them in the ugliest fashion. Panic shot through his body then, but he was too spent to assess it. Fuck, how would his brother react if he knew he was dead? And... And what would Kellin be doing in heaven? Well, for all he knew, maybe this was hell. Whatever, the point is, if he wasn't alive he couldn't suffer in the same way anymore, surely...Unless...

He frowned.. "Unless I'm dreaming or somethin'." And then his bloody hand went to his other arm, pinching his skin, losing balance in the process and catching himself with his elbow on this bed of glass shards and green bottles.

"Fuck!" Kellin was quick to stand up and help Vic up, leaving him in a sitting position and holding him by his arms. "Shit, Vic," Kellin spoke in a haunted whisper, soft, so soft, afraid of breaking Victor even more. Kellin's eyes began watering once again. He heard careful steps approaching them but he was too busy trying to get a groaning, bleeding Vic still.

He thought that it wouldn't be that bad, he didn't expect Vic to shatter, he expected things to be fine. Kellin thought that what he had felt the whole month was bad but seeing Vic again made him experienced a whole new level of heartbreak. What he felt when he saw Vic's state and his dead eyes I couldn't describe in my wildest dreams; the agony buried within, tugging and clawing at his insides with the intention to make it hurt, squeezing and suffocating Kellin just for the goddamn sake of it.

"We need to patch you up again," Mike said softly, his eyes so damn pained, lips curled downwards, eyes dulling even more after receiving a lost stare from Victor. Tony put his hand on Mike's shoulder, squeezing it and muttering something about 'going to take the Aid Kit' and leaving still carefully. Kellin didn't even bother to hide his tears nor. His face was scrunched up as small sobs escaped his parted lips, the tears wettening his face on the way he had grown used to, unlike the ache.

Victor stayed there, simply blinking, looking at Kellin like you would an angel if you saw one. Mike's words registered but he was absolutely stunned, and his brain was one big fuss. Then, he attempted a joke, "What're the waterworks for?". Mellow. He felt mellow. He wasn't so angry at Kellin, or sad at all, not in that precise moment anyway. He wasn't miserable yet, still not completely come down from his various intakes. "I'm not dead yet. D'ya want me to be? I can fix that. Maybe then I'll be good enough, yeah?" He let a little chuckle escape. It was borderline manipulative, but not intentionally, it was just brutally honest, and an attempt at making things lighter despite him being far gone.

He shrugged, "Whatever. I'm gonna need a beer." Vic then declared, removing the shard from his palm with an audible gasp and then sticking his mouth to it. There was too much blood everywhere for it to be effective though, and it tasted like shit, though Vic couldn't tell if it was the junk that probably was on the floor, his blood or the fact that he hadn't been feeding himself properly for the past longer-than-he-could-remember.

Then, his eyes went to rest on Kellin's hands on his arms, the contact, the warmth. It was one slow and heavy movement and Vic was pulling Kellin as close as humanly possible. The hurt and sorrow were not even part of the formula, he just desperately needed the closeness. He held him there with all the strength that remained inside him.

Kellin couldn't stop sobbing. It didn't cross his mind whether he looked weak, whether he looked unmanly, nothing crossed his fucking mind but the fact that Victor had fallen at rock bottom, maybe further down, and it was all on him. Kellin gripped Vic's shirt, feeling actually how small Vic had gotten. He started muttering 'I'm sorry's like a mantra. He didn't care that there was probably blood on his shirt, he had been starving for Vic. His touch, his proximity, him.

Kellin didn't let go, not even when Tony came back. He had completely disregarded that Vic and he weren't alone.

"I need you to move, Kellin," Tony sighed, crouching down near Vic.

"No," came out brokenly and muffled.

"Kellin," Mike said in a warning tone. Kellin shook his head, moving to sit carefully beside Vic, pushing the glass away with his hands, not really caring that he could have hurt himself. He kept his head buried in Vic's shoulder, his arms gripping his middle strongly. He was still crying, just not as hard. He heard a sigh, that looked more like an airly laugh, and a groan.

"Alright," Tony spoke softly, taking Vic's wounded hand and doing what he had to. Kellin didn't care how childish that was of him, he just couldn't let go. Not again.

Vic's body reacted to the embrace on instinct, wrapping his free arm around the other boy's waist and shutting his eyes, suppressing a whimper as Tony took the glass out, his muscles instantly relaxing as he received the other boy's familiar warmth and comforting smell. Vic felt at home again, too buzzed to argue with this new condition, Kellin in his arms, and even had he been sober, he probably wouldn't have fought it off because, let's be real, it's all Vic needed right now. That and, you know, food, sleep, things humans usually do on a daily that easily got abandoned in the craziness of it all. Vic almost felt like he could fall asleep right then and there without a care in the world from the utter comfort he felt, but one thing held him back; the fear of cracking his eyes open and Kellin not being there, like a slight buzzing in the back of his head telling him there was no way the man saw him as he was right now and wanted to stay, but again, Vic was too wasted to deal with those thoughts right now.

They stood on pure silence as Tony finished bandaging Vic's hand. He murmured incoherent stuff, so out of it yet he still held Kellin somewhat. Kellin had stopped crying then, though he still looked so miserable. Tony excused himself again, going back to put the Aid Kit away.

"I didn't mean to," Kellin murmured. His grey gaze remained on the ground, so dark and sorrowful and his heart ached ever so slightly with a random pull whenever he even thought. Kellin glanced at Mike, that had his eyes now on him. "I didn't mean for him to end up like this."

Kellin sighed, trying to sit straight but falling back down on Vic's side when the grasp Vic had on him tightened. He smiled tightly.

"I thought he was better without me," Kellin raised a finger, taking away a curl that stood on Vic's eye, covering his lashes, voice light-hearted. "I haven't done him any good. He wasn't happy with me, I caused him so much pain back then..." He exhaled shakily, his tired gaze watering up again. "I thought he would be happy if I let him go." his voice cracked and his face contorted, still quite flushed. Kellin inhaled deeply, closing his eyes so tightly and resting his head back down on Vic's shoulder, trying to keep himself together. He didn't want to cry anymore.

It was all quiet for a while, and soon enough they both realized that Vic's breath had evened out.

"We should put him on his bed," Mike mumbled, his now doubtful gaze flickering between Kellin and Vic. He wasn't doubtful of Kellin, he could see that he was far from okay, especially since he saw Vic. Hell, not even the best actor could falsify the heartbreak written across Kellin's eyes, the flat out remorse and shame had he shown with his distraught face. Michael just wasn't sure if that was going to hold. He didn't know how Vic would react when he found out that Kellin had been on their house, on his embrace; whether he would break everything and scream, completely mad or he would cry and try to get Kellin back. Mike wasn't sure of anything anymore, everything and everyone had become so unpredictable.

Kellin nodded, untangling his limbs from Victor. He tried to stand up but fell back down as Victor clutched him, mumbling what seemed his name. Kellin exhaled slowly. He blinked quickly.

"Show me where his room is," Kellin said as certain confidence took over his body. Kellin decided right then and there that he would fight for that man until his last breath.

He put one arm below Vic's knees and the other went to his lower back. He stood up carefully, tilting his head to gaze at the floor. Mike looked bewildered, untrusting of the one holding his brother, physically and metaphorically. Mike showed Kellin the way with sceptical glances but still took them to Vic's room.

Kellin could, at the moment, not wish to be anywhere else in the universe. He finally felt at home, somewhat, like the world had pulled itself together shakily, with badly done stitches and pricking itself on the needle many times, but it was sewn back anyway, a patchwork of nice things. He watched Vic's chest rise and fall steadily, his head swirling at the possibilities, everything that could've happened... Vic could've died! His heart was tight underneath his ribcage at that prospect, and it made a bitter taste lay on the back of his tongue.

And then, everything to come. Things wouldn't be perfect, he was fooling himself by hoping Vic would just wake up and take him back into his life, and he knew it, but what else could he expect? For the earth to swallow him whole again?

For now, however, things were calm and it was easy to stay serene, guided only by Vic's soft breathing pattern, that was a little unsteady at times, and that kind of threw Kellin off, but it was there, surely enough.

Kellin was extremely overwhelmed. He was so delighted for having Vic on his arms once again but yet the void still tore him apart. He was happy yet the destruction he caused still suffocated him. He was so tired, too. For so long he couldn't sleep on his own bed, it reminded him of all the lazy moments he spent there with Vic and the active times too. He could barely handle being on his own home, that was impregnated with Vic. So he gently allowed to fall underwater, his eyes slipping shut as his lips parted a little with steady breaths escaping them. He didn't know if he really slept or anything, all he knows is the contradictory look Mike had when he refused to leave with him and the few minutes he spent there, observing the little mark Vic had beside his lips from smiling too much, his nose moving ever so slightly, the way his brows twitched followed by his eyes moving behind his eyelids, and he's not gonna admit it but he stared at those pretty pink lips more than anything, really longing to feel them against his, before he closed his tired eyes for a minute.

Then he was forced to wake up, by a confused Vic.

"Kellin?" Vic muttered surprised. He had a little headache, but he still had this faint rush of happiness coming from somewhere. He was more than confused. Maybe he was still tripping? He scratched his head, narrowing his eyes and sighing. Vic shook his head and stood up, feeling his blood rush through his body and his heart pulsating, not paying attention to the way that Kellin sat up slowly too. He was still too out of it. He couldn't think.

Imagine his surprise, though, when Kellin pulled him back on the bed, arresting him on a tight strong grip. Vic gasped, his hand instinctively going to Kellin's arms, that was around his middle.

"What the fuck," Victor exhaled, turning his head to look incredulously to Kellin, seeing his wide, happy silver diamond blue eyes gazing back at him with a soft curl of lips. Vic froze for a second before forcefully taking Kellin's arms from around him, taking short little breaths, face as if he had seen a ghost. Victor stood up again, stepping back, his stomach churning but he tripped over his own feet, falling down on his bottom but never once taking his eyes out of Kellin.

"Vic! Are you okay?" Kellin frowned worriedly, quickly shifting out of the bed with his hands up, going to reach for Victor at the same time he showed he meant no harm. Victor just shuffled back, gazing wide-eyed at Kellin. But as he slowly stepped closer, his heart on his throat as his hand got too close to touch Victor. Kellin froze when Vic flinched from him. The silence seemed to smother them for a few moments.

"What the fuck!" Vic shouted, jumping up. Kellin flinched. "What the fuck?" Vic cried out, walking a step back, his hand going to pass through his hair before it stopped midair. Victor stared in horror and awe at his bandaged hand.

"It was real," Vic whispered to himself, gazing at his hand before letting his eyes flicker to Kellin, "you're real." His parted lips allowed a puff out, while he didn't even bother to gaze at Mike, that busted through the door with Tony.

"What's going on here?!" Mike demanded, his worried gaze going between his brother and Kellin. Victor couldn't take his eyes away from his Kellin, he couldn't. The surprise and awe alongside the horror and confusion became overwhelming so easily.

Kellin broke their gaze by meeting Mike's and Tony's eyes for a second before his eyes flickered to Victor again. He opened his lips to speak something but there was nothing to say. What was he supposed to say, even?

But then Victor took a hesitant step forward. And another, and another one, until he was right in front of Kellin, mindless to the watchful eyes hovering over his back.

"You're real," Victor whispered, his astonished gaze warming Kellin the same way it destroyed him. Vic raised his damaged hand, softly touching Kellin's cheek, lips parted in disbelief. Kellin was there. He was real.

If words had once inhabited the inside of Kellin's skull, they had now dissolved themselves in cerebrospinal fluid and were now floating around in dismembered syllables somewhere up there. His hand went, gently, rest upon Vic's, holding it close to his cheek and reveling in its warmth and it's realness. Flesh, bone, muscle. There he was with him, and somehow, despite Vic's tired eyes and almost strained demi-smile, Kellin had this odd feeling anything was possible as long as they stayed together. It was unrealistic, he knew, it sounded like the pretty little fairy tales you tell kids where everyone lives happily 'till the end of times and life just isn't like that, but Kellin wanted it to be true. He awaited a blow, an insult, a yell, but all he got was a hug, and it felt like betrayal.

Kellin needed a blow to the face and someone to call him a piece of shit. It just wasn't fair for Vic to be falling back into all of this without even recalling him all his wrongs. A moment passed, then Vic's grip tightened and Kellin had to hug back with everything in his soul and body, nestling his face into the crook of Vic's neck in hopes no one would see the tears on the verge of falling off the corners of his eyes.

"Vic." He choked out, "M-my love. What have I done to you?"

"I did this to myself. I didn't need help." Vic responded, sulkily, still not pulling apart from the comforting embrace.

"It wouldn't have happened had I stayed around, would it?"

"Kellin, please, I just want to be careless for a little bit without you ruining it with the blame. I haven't forgiven you, okay? Just let me be happy, alright? Please let me enjoy that I have you back before we start another fight." Vic responded, looking deep into his eyes. It shook Kellin to the very core, the way Vic delivered it, the sheer honesty in his voice. Kellin was disarmed.

"O-okay." He stuttered out, moved.

Mike pursed his lips, his eyes wandering between his brother and Kellin. As much as he'd love to punch the shit out of Kellin, even though Vic seemed to be okay with him at least at that moment, it would be stupid to simply let all those months go by ignored, he let them be. For now.

His awkward gaze went to Tony, which looked just as awkward as Mike felt, just as unfitting. Tony shrugged, his brows rising and corner of the mouth twisting. Michael raised his shoulders as well, turning to leave with Anthony behind.

Victor let out a breath after a long moment, his arms untightening. He brought Kellin arms-length with this look that said how enticed yet outrageous Victor felt. He took in every single detail of Kellin's that he could see. Victor leaned back slightly, pursing his lips.

"You haven't been taking care of yourself either, have you?" Vic murmured with a pointed look over his expression. Kellin shrugged.

"I'm not important right now, Vic." Kellin dismissed easily, sweeping under the rug yet another crucial thing. "But... Vic-for how long have you... y'know?"

And Vic frowned, staring at him a little confused before realization crossed him. A short exhale carried with fear and laments escaped Victor as his eyes cast down. He allowed his grip to falter, his hands hesitantly falling down by his sides.

"I, uh, what, which part you mean?" Dragging out, always dragging out. Earning himself some time for something inevitable, like the universe would suddenly change the unavoidable.

"All of it." Kellin was serious, something in his eye changing. It wasn't something big, not at all, it was just a tidal wave of concern and sorrow, regret and agony. Nothing new. He just wasn't as anxious, even if there was definitely a soul-shattering feeling deep inside his bones. Vic scratched his neck, his nose scrunching up and eyes narrowing a little.

"I've... I've been drinking ever since we, uh, broke up" Victor mumbled, unable to look Kellin in the eyes. He hated to admit that, he hated the feeling of being weak, of not being able to hold himself together, of being so dependent on Kellin. He hated this. "And that's it. That's all." He wouldn't dare to admit the drugs. Never. What the eyes don't see, the heart won't feel. Right?

Kellin's shoulders dropped. The disappointment came almost instantly, looking at Victor like he knew. And he probably did anyways. Kellin reached out, holding Vic's hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. They were warm against Vic's colder skin, they were soothing, even though Kellin grabbing his arm made his heartbeat speed up and his nervousness rise. Kellin ignored Vic's startled face, staring into his eyes as he lowered Victor's hand a little, still having his whole arm stretched out. Then he suddenly flipped Vic's hand.

"Victor... Don't lie, please," He spoke just above a whisper, sad, careful, aware. He didn't stop looking into Vic's stare for a second, not daring to look at the bruises and needle marks, to look at the price Victor paid for his selfishness. It would be too much for him to handle, too painful to look again. But Kellin knew they were there, the glimpse he caught of it and how Vic was acting when he arrived was enough for him to know. Yeah, he knew. _He knew_. Shit.

Vic swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a shaky breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding.  
From the moment they'd met, Vic had always tried to be the picture-perfect boyfriend. You know, husband material, and not just husband, trophy husband, I'd dare say. He'd stand everything, he'd take in every little disguised criticism from everyone, he'd gladly accept backhanded compliments -- not from Kellin, he wouldn't do that --, you get the picture. Everything to be perfect for the boy right in front of him now. This whole time, he'd been hoping it would be enough. Vic wasn't even asking for much, not a house, not kids, not a nice car, just love. It wouldn't have mattered if Kellin was dirt poor, it wouldn't have mattered if no one knew him, if his whole family had disowned him, if he was a junkie, Vic would have loved him all the same.

And here they were. And Vic was shaking.

Because he was in love, and he would have loved him all the same, but Kellin didn't even love him to begin with, didn't love him when he was at his finest, when he was good to marry.  
Vic's chocolatey eyes widened and filled to the brink with ocean-like water as the realization hit him, but he was so fuckin' tired, and he'd been crying so much lately... He let his head drop like a child who just got told their parents aren't coming back and can't quite process it yet.

"I-I.." It was over anyway. The moment Kellin had walked in, it'd been over. No one could ever love a wreck like this. He was just trying to keep as many pieces together as he could, but whatever they had was clearly crumbling between his fingers. He wasn't angry. Just, sad. But. Whatever. It happens. Things like that, break ups, people walking out of his life, he should have been used to it. It shouldn't affect him as much. And, after all, he'd get over it pretty soon. He'd just miss Kellin a lot, but.. whatever. "I'm so-sorry. It's been a couple months, I couldn't-- I really couldn't."

"No, nononono," Kellin took a deep breath. He hated how emotional he was being, despised how sensitive he felt. Tears prickled at his eyes once more. Kellin exhaled. Carefully, he let go of Vic's hand, then brought his hands to Victor's shoulders. Kellin hummed, pulling Vic close to his embrace, still so careful, still so messed up. Kellin couldn't help but appreciate the warmth, couldn't help but crave the closeness and desire more.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He sighed. "I should've been better, I- I should've treated you right," Kellin stopped talking. It was suffocating him too much to keep it in but there were no words to let out. Victor exhaled.

"No, I- I tried but... I'm sorry, I-" Vic breathed out. His voice broke before he could finish, he felt so weak. He was apologizing for not being enough. He swallowed dryly. He tried his best but yet he failed, always failed. He was so sorry, he should have tried harder, should have been better, should have...

"You have nothing to apologize for," Kellin whispered. The tightness of his throat left him unable to speak any louder, it got him so vulnerable as one is within themselves over the lone moments. He held Victor with all the strength he had in himself because letting go meant letting go of himself, of his life, of his love.

Victor held Kellin back just as tight.

"I know you don't trust me right now, but I will never ever hurt you again," Kellin promised. Vic didn't answer. He was tired, too tired to care, to think, to hold on, so tired of feeling, so fucking exhausted of existing. So he just kept quiet, ignoring how a part of himself didn't believe Kellin, a bigger part of himself.

That night went by eventlessly. Well, unless you count lots of crying and cuddles as events. And then in the morning, a surprise was waiting for Vic. His brother, talking to Kellin, right outside the room they'd slept in, both still in their clothes from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Mike, putting lots of emphases and talking a lot with his hands, a frown on his face, Kellin, his back facing him, that's the image he was greeted with as he rubbed at his eyes slowly.

He heard his name dropped here and there, and every time it was uttered by Kellin, it had a certain fragility, opposed to the harsh, convinced way Mike brought it up. Kellin said it like you put down a vase you're scared to break, Mike, as if he were defending him by pushing it past his lips.

"Hey, I'm right here, you know?" Vic yelled from the bed, going upright into a sitting position before pushing himself off, instantly wobbling and catching himself on the nightstand, accidentally pushing off a lamp in the motion. It fell with a loud clunk but did not break, to Vic's relief. There had been too much glass shattered these past weeks. His whole body was one big mess of aching muscles and generalized pain, right up to the bone, his head was foggy, hurting. Vic ground his teeth, bitterly thinking about how he'd brought this upon himself.

Both faces turned to him, Mike's hand still halfway in the air.

There was a moment of pause, where no words were shared, and Vic did not need further explanations to understand he wasn't in a state to be sharing his opinion on how his body should be disposed of.

"Why don't you guys go spend some time together, away from all of this?" Mike said, in an uncharacteristically sweet voice.

"Weren't you talking about rehab two seconds ago?" Kellin remarked, kind of angry.

"Hey! I'm not an addict! I just fucked up a couple times it doesn't mean--"

Mike raised his hands in innocence. "Go for it. Go for your little cabin-in-the-woods vacation. You're right. It doesn't need to go as far as a rehab center. Why are you mad at me? I'm just helping out here."

Vic raised both eyebrows, sighing. "Whatever, what's going on? Would you guys mind explaining to, like, the object of your conversation?"

"We're trying to find a way to fix this," Kellin responded, an unsure smile on his lips. A breeze lifted the room's curtains and caressed Vic's cheek. He reeked of alcohol still, his hair was greasy and he felt down, dirty, disgusting. It was the first time in a couple of months he was aware of things, and honestly, he hated it.

Vic let his shoulders fall a little bit, his eyes flickering hard and long between his brother and Kellin "Okay," Victor grumbled. It was worthless fighting it, Mike's face told him that much. Though, as much as Victor didn't want to fight to get better, he wanted to be okay, and he wanted them to be okay.

Kellin swallowed, rather surprised over the lack of effort he had to put there, then nodded. "Okay," he repeated after Vic. "We'll be leaving at the end of the afternoon, how does that sound?" Kellin had this certain sympathetic twinkle as he looked at Victor still careful, afraid a single gaze would break him down. Victor hated it. Vic gave him a nod then glanced at Michael, that nodded as well, just a little more dreadful. Victor nodded to himself before sighing, still looking between both of them, guard far up high, far too conscious.

Kellin let out a sigh of his own, taking it all in.

Everything was so fucking unrealistic.

Kellin had wanted for so long, all these months, desperately craving Vic, desperately missing him, desperately longing for the past in which things weren't shit. But now Victor was actually there and willing to stay with him.

It scared him.

He was beyond undeserving of Vic's forgiveness and all the same he was so afraid of fucking it up again. He knew that Vic didn't exactly forgive him, at least not yet, but the thought of him getting off the bait just like that was so unbelievably sickening. The amount of self-hatred he felt the past months, the amount of loneliness, the amount of remorse and guilt had just devoured him entirely at that point and what had been left behind was nothing but a ghost of who he wanted to be, of who he was.

But that wasn't the time to think about this.

Kellin focused back down, hearing Mike telling Victor to not be afraid to punch Kellin in case it was necessary.

Vic was gazing at him carefully, wondering. Concerned, knowing. His lovely broken stare so worried under the sunlight, so glorious, so angel-like. It was hurtful and pleasuring and it was something that Kellin most definitely didn't deserve. Kellin swallowed. It wasn't the time for that, he had done enough of that. He pushed it all as far as he could despite the fact that it was piling upon him. He ignored it too. He smiled such a fragile smile.

"I'm going home now, I'll be back to catch ya later, yeah?" Kellin cleared his throat, keeping his face as neutral as he could.

Don't get it wrong, he loved that Vic gave him another chance, but there was so much on his head regards Victor coming back, so much insecurity. It was overwhelming. Maybe getting away from everything and everyone would do them both good. Vic frowned but nodded nonetheless, still watching quietly. Kellin pursed his lips for a second before he smiled tightly. "Hit me up when you're ready," he said softly. Kellin had turned around to leave but Victor spoke before he took a step.

"Wait! You'll, you'll come back, right?" He let out a soft noise, swallowing hard, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. His eyes were worried once again, afraid, uneasy. Kellin softened, his chest aching.

"Of course I'll come back," he spoke just above a whisper, "I promise you."

Vic didn't look convinced, not at all, but he still nodded, tightening his arms around himself. Kellin's shoulders dropped and all he could think was 'Fucking hell, I fucked up,' as he walked to his car and drove to his house in a blink.


	4. Leave It All Behind

It was a Wednesday morning, and Vic would remember that with vivid clarity because it was such an odd day for a road trip. Never, in the past, would he even have dreamt of just up and leaving some random Wednesday, but apparently that was feasible now, as that is exactly what they were doing. In fact, at the very moment, his eyes were drawing elaborate shapes into the trees as those zoomed by, behind his corneas, reflections swimming through the cerebrospinal fluid. The radio played softly an album they both loved and his feet tapped the beat distractedly onto the car's carpet.

"So, uh, how are you doing?" Kellin risked, breaking the silence for the first time in fifteen minutes or so.

"I'm good, thanks, how are you?" Vic returned, his eyes not leaving their comfortable place, away from the beautiful face he could gape at for hours and into a nature that wouldn't hurt him as Kellin had. Despite everything, Vic still forgave him. He could hardly forgive himself, however.

"Well.." Kellin laughed nervously, and Vic understood there was a subtle second meaning to his former question. "I'm good, but, like, yeah, you know." He shrugged. "Nevermind."

Vic couldn't be angry, he really couldn't. Had the roles been reversed, he'd be wondering the same thing.

A couple hours endless hours later, they got to a nice little wooden shack in the middle of a field that seemed to have been abandoned for most of the past decade. It wasn't abandoned, of course, it was just not kept. What's the point of having a cabin in the woods if nature can't grow freely around it, right?

The trees were tall and bushy, and in between them, Vic's gaze came across the big bubbly eyes of a deer. It was there, quiet, unmoving. Kellin felt his hand held back and turned his head slightly, to see Vic standing there, and then the deer. No words escaped neither of their mouths. Then the deer bolted, and it seemed the moment had been smashed to pieces.

Vic smiled at Kellin, amazed. "Let's go in, it's kind of cold." He asked, to which Kellin complied.

Kellin closed the door behind him, sighing a little. He bit his lip, watching Vic's back, getting small glimpses of his stunned face while he looked around. Kellin may or may not have known that Vic was a sucker for wooden, cosy houses, which was why they were there. Mostly.

"Holy shit, this place's gorgeous," Vic mumbled, finishing his looking around before he turned to Kellin. A quick glance around was enough to Vic to reach that conclusion and the place really was perfect in his eyes. He didn't really pay attention to the small details, not yet at least, but he would in time. He saw only the big stuff; the fireplace on a far wall – and he thought it was quite stupid to build something like that in a goddamn wooden house, but he saw it was made of rocks, which he wasn't so sure it made it safer. The couch in the middle of the room facing the fireplace, and a few portraits. He smiled a small, careful smile at Kellin before he turned around, ready to explore the house as a curious kid would do in a new place. Kellin sighed.

"Wait. Give me your stuff, I'll put 'em in our- " he stopped himself. Maybe it would be too much. They weren't that far yet. Not anymore. "Your room," Kellin corrected himself before looking away.

"Mkay," Vic murmured, still gazing around as he walked back to Kellin to give him the suitcase he held. Kellin's heart swelled at Vic's underlying excitement of being so close to nature, so compassionate about the place, — and he hadn't seen the best of it yet — so gorgeous with the small twinkle his eyes held. It wasn't the happiness he used to have, far from it, but it was something. And Kellin latched onto it with all his might, even if the bags underneath Vic's eyes were quite prominent and his sunken cheeks and somewhat paleness were absolutely destroying him every time he glanced at Vic.

Kellin sighed, smiling tightly before he left to the other part of the cabin. "Have fun exploring," he spoke, knowing that his Vic would've done it anyway. But he wasn't so sure if this Vic was his Vic, even if he could see small glimpses of who he was priorly. So he shook his head before cursing himself, jogging up to the rooms so he could get back to Vic.

Vic let his shoulders fall down when Kellin left the room, gazing at the hand where the shard had been, it seemed, forever ago. Though he couldn't believe his lover being back at first, now he was feeling a whole different type of pressure and sadness. Everything they worked for, where had it gone? Did he really disgust Kellin so much they couldn't share a room together?

He sighed, trying not to think of that and focus on how lucky they were to do something like this. In the end, they were here to have a good time and Vic was positive that's exactly what would happen, eventually. He walked around, letting his fingertips ghost over the wooden decorations that graced the fireplace, little statues that stood proudly, slight dust serving them like hair. He laughed softly at the thought, glancing into the little man's eyes and then looking away, observing the floor now. It was wonderful, it really was. The leather couch looked like the kind of place you can crash and get an actual good night's sleep despite being much smaller than a bed and the windows were wide and allowed lots of light to fill the room. Besides, the whole place was painted in warm tones and smelled somewhat like apple pie, and though it was probably an air freshener somewhere so that it doesn't smell like humidity, which is just what most cabins smell like, Vic wanted to believe it was something more romantic, something like the smell of coming back home. He didn't feel quite home, however, and that was translated into the stiffness of his shoulder's muscles.

Kellin, in the meantime, left their stuff upstairs, separating it into the two available rooms. The place wasn't huge per-se but it was a reasonable size. Big enough so that, if they tried really hard, they wouldn't need to see each other at all. The perspective made him a little bit melancholic but if it was necessary for Vic's mental well-being, he'd do it. Kellin had always wanted to take his significant other on a trip like this, but he never made the time. He turned off the lights after a moment of staring at the wall, processing his current situation, and walked back downstairs, trying not to make the old wood creak too much.

"So, what do you think?"

Victor jumped slightly at the sudden question before turning around.

"I love it," Vic responded, shooting stars in his eyes though his tone was monotone and exhausted.

Kellin's unreadable expression barely changed before he smiled tightly. A hum and a nod came out of him, almost a programmed reaction. But his eyes wouldn't move away from Victor, to the point where Vic was uncomfortable, trying to drag the attention away from him with his eyes, though Kellin wouldn't bulge.

"Uh... What? My face's dirty or something?" Victor sceptically wiped his face, blindly. And Kellin smiled a small yet genuine smile watching Vic's attempt of cleaning something already clean.

"Nothing, it's just..." Kellin breathed out, biting his lip before continuing softly. "Can I, can you hug me?" And the vulnerability within his guts was evident through his eyes, noticeable enough to, maybe, confuse Victor. Vic licked his chapped lips, subconsciously understanding and even relating. So he approached Kellin deliberately, in no hurry at all because, even though he felt like no time with Kellin was ever enough, he was quite surprised with Kellin's demeanour ever since they met again. He had been showing so much more to Vic, he had been quite open. And Vic wasn't complaining, not at all, he was just stunned by it. So he proceeded to slowly encircle his arms around Kellin, carefully, before he managed to be completely glued to him. And Kellin didn't stand there simply, no, he entangled his limbs around Vic's neck, sighing so relieved, purely enticed by Vic's warmth. His hand tenderly waved through Vic's curls and his other hand snaking down his back, pressing him even closer while he breathed out, burying his face on Vic's neck.

And Vic's body wasn't as tense though some of his muscles were stiff. Vic was bewildered as he tightened his arms, fingertips trailing over Kellin's back reassuringly.

"Kells?" He whispered even if they were the only people on that house, he just felt like he couldn't speak louder otherwise a greater something would have been disturbed. "What's wrong?" He was so sweet and precious, Kellin was really fucking ready to lock him in a little box so he could be the selfish motherfucker he felt he was and keep Vic to himself only.

"You're so precious," Kellin murmured to himself, but Victor wasn't deaf. A tiny blush adorned his cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut just like Kellin's had. They swayed from side to side ever so slowly, basking onto the faint smell of the other, the warmth and, dare I say, the peace that engulfed them both onto a timeless moment where the outside world was nothing but an anecdote for children. They allowed the aeons to pass by mindlessly, simply uncaring.

Kellin let go slowly, even if he wasn't ready to the cold that hit him afterwards. "We should go eat something, don't you think? I had someone buy some food for us before we came here."

And his lips curved upwards a tiny bit before he was walking to the kitchen, Vic just a little behind.

The serenity of this place was unlike anything Vic had ever experienced before, it was, in fact, a huge weight off his chest. It would happen for him to be bored, and very often so, and sometimes in those moments, he would go through the bumpiness of not having a fix of literally anything. It would have him aching and trembling ever so slightly, though he tried his best to push it under the rug and pretend everything's fine. However, one thing he could not deny is that Kellin was there.

That same night, for example, as they were laying on the couch, he found himself getting distanced from the present as his mind wandered off into what he could've been doing with a good old bottle of scotch and a needle in hand. As if on cue, Kellin's grip on his hand had gone a little bit tighter and Vic had no other choice than to find refugee in his chest, hugging him close. Vic knew Kellin knew, there was no need for words.

Kellin had then rubbed little circles into Vic's scalp as well as tiny hearts and other random shapes as the other man concentrated on his breathing and tried his best not to stay too fixated on the thoughts, his muscles going looser for a couple minutes.

And then it crashed into him and he hid his face so that the water could run freely once again.

Vic felt so stupid, the only things he'd been doing lately were crying, whining and drugs, but he didn't know how else to react, he honestly didn't.

Maybe, just maybe, Kellin had let himself feel then, too, his eyes watery and his lower lip shaky. It was a moment of catharsis in the pure silence of the night, nothing but two stars gazing at the hollow universe in front of them, with the wild impression that whatever may come, they'd have to build it from scratch.

The night went by, the morning came up. They didn't talk about the night, they kept it in the low because come on, what's there to talk about? It was kind of pointless. But they were both quite down in the morning too so Kellin decided to take things in his hands.

"Y' know, there's a river nearby," his voice broke through the drenching silence. And Vic could barely understand those words since he was drifting in between reality and his mind. He was exhausted in every aspect of the word. Vic nodded a little, finishing the pancakes Kellin made for them. Kellin nodded back, feeling his heart plummet from his chest straight to his toes. Really, he felt like his bones had tightened so hard on his lungs and all the organs in that area that it was a wonder for him how he was still alive, he felt on the brink of extinction looking at Vic in that chemical daze. "Let's go there."

Vic sighed slowly, letting his heavy bones get the best of him. "Don't think I can do shit today," he mumbled airly. He could barely breathe on his own, his body was aching so bad, his stomach for sure had enough of him. And even in that shitty state, Vic still wanted whiskey, his holy water. He was craving it so much, his veins felt so empty. Kellin's lips curled bitterly.

"I understand, but staying here all day is no good for you," he stood up, taking his plate and cup with him, turning to the sink. "I can carry you, you know?"

And Vic was once again not paying attention at all, gazing at the table but not really, since his head was just foggy dizziness. He nodded even though he didn't understand one word of what Kellin said.

Kellin, that was looking at him atop his shoulder, exhaled slowly, biting his lip and feeling his nose sting. Aw, for fuck's sake, hadn't he cried enough? He turned to face the sink again, shaking his head.

Taking a corpse outside would've been easier than dragging Vic along had been, but after hours and hours, he'd finally coaxed him, trying oh-so-desperately to break his shell, this glass pane that separated the both of them. Kellin had brought this upon himself.

The river was lovely, rippling and turning in front of them, whispering things to the pebbles and to the wind. Perhaps in another life, Kellin would have known enough about nature to catch onto their secrets, maybe they'd have been muttering about the doll-like boy with skin reminiscent of days spent at the beach staring at the infinity of the ocean like one stares into one's future, unsure of where it's headed and intimidated by the large waves. Perhaps their forked tongues were uttering about his arms, all the way from where his short sleeves ended to his palms, pressed against the humid ground, amidst the saturated green grass, covered in tree hollow-like little scars, littered in souvenirs of a time Kellin would love to forget existed. Maybe that's not what the wind would be talking about, maybe what would have caught their attention would've then been his unfocused eyes, glassy, lost, and despite Kellin's grip on him-- a hug that tried its best to be comforting-- the distance that separated them. Despite their bodies being pressed against each other, Vic was a thousand miles away.

Or not. Perhaps there were no mutters, no whispers, no secrets, no talking. Maybe, just like Vic and him, the wind and water sat quietly next to each other, one free and the other encaged, slave to a physical universe as the former flew, free as a bird. But then, thought Kellin, wouldn't the water think of herself as the free one. Isn't it she who, each day ascends up into the sky to form the beautiful fluffy clouds Vic was staring at so intensely. Then, who was the prisoner? The boy who'd been able to escape reality or the one who'd been stuck in it this whole time?

A grim thought crossed his mind, one he'd wished to obliterate, but kept coming back every now and again, and there it was, taunting him. "Why don't you come and try it yourself..?" It seemed to ask, in a sultry voice.

"Stop thinking so loudly." Vic then said, out of the blue, which startled the other boy.

"Huh?"

"Your muscles are tense. They're never tense. You're thinking too hard." Vic simply replied cryptically.

Kellin furrowed his brows. He tightened his arm around Vic, letting his body lean more towards him. It was silent again and Kellin was left to wonder if Victor's words came from the sane part of his imagination.

Vic glanced at Kellin, seeing that, well shit, he looked melancholic at best.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" Vic mumbled, pulling his sleeves even farther on his hands. Even if they were in reasonable weather, he still felt cold. He gripped his own fingers until his knuckles turned white, hands shaking just a bit, skin itching. He bit the inside of his cheeks.

"No no, nothing's wrong, I'm just..." He was going to say something but what was he supposed to say? 'Oh, I'm just contemplating doing drugs because I feel stuck, nothing bad hahaha'. He sighed. "Nothing's wrong." Vic quirked one eyebrow and hummed.

"Suit yourself then," Vic pulled his knees up to his chest, laying his head on it. "If you do decide that you want to tell me what is it, go ahead," he nudged Kellin's ribs with his elbow. "I got time."

Kellin hummed. "It's fine, I'm fine. I'll deal with it." Vic frowned, shifting a bit so he could face Kellin. He narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, you're worrying me. What's wrong?" Vic focused the most amount of attention he could on Kellin, which was a good amount considering he felt spaced out and completely out of it.

"Nothing's wrong, It told you." He kept a straight face as if he was telling the truth, though Vic knew better.

"Kellin," It was that tone, 'Tell me what's wrong and don't fucking lie' that mothers and best friends seem to have. A tone that people that care seem to have.

"It's nothing, really, let's not talk about it," Kellin added after a moment, sick of even thinking about it.

Vic grabbed his face in his hands, "Hey, look into my eyes. This is gonna be hard, yeah? For the both of us. But we'll get through this one." He said, the most convincingly he could despite everything. "There's stuff out there still worth fighting for. And... Despite... All... You're here with me today." Vic took a sharp breath. "It was, rough without you, as you may have noticed. But you're here now. I don't ever wanna lose you again. So please, humour me, have some faith." He forced a smile on his tired lips. Kellin did the same. The truth is, neither of them really wanted to smile, or even to have hope in anything, but both knew it was for the greater good to keep pretending.

In any other scenario, this would have ended with a fight, bitter words like daggers into each others' chests and one of them sleeping on the couch, but the heaviness of their bones, how close and destructive their latest fight had been and the tender look in Vic's light-less eyes were quick to kill the fight that laid inside Kellin's bones, and Vic had never wanted to argue in the first place. Sure, he could've gone for a more aggressive approach, for forcing Kellin to speak, but Vic wasn't even sure he wanted to hear it. If there is no problem at all, then nothing needs to be fixed, and if no one mentions an issue, then there is none. That has to be how it works.

Kellin wordlessly got up and walked to the river, dipping his whole hand in the water.

"How is it?" Asked Vic, still in the same spot.

"It's fine."

"Just fine?"

"Kinda cold."

"You're cold."

"Your mom's cold."

The air was so much lighter, the clouds so much fluffier, the sun so much brighter as they pretended not to have issues, as Vic approached his... boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?... and pretended to test the water just to bring his hand back quickly and splash him violently, laughter erupting from his stomach, only to be pushed into the water by the former. It felt great to have a silly moment like this.

"Dickhead!" Vic shouted once he emerged. Kellin was snickering near the lake, a grin so wide in a way that Victor's heart quickened. Vic glared at him before he smirked. He got out of the water quickly, smiling a bit too sweetly. "C' mere," he opened his arms. "Gimme a hug."

Kellin stood up quickly backing away, traces of laughter still present on his lips. He backed away from Vic, hands raised. It felt nostalgic. Everything felt nostalgic. He turned to run but Vic was faster, wrapping his weak arms around Kellin's shoulders and jumping on his back. Vic shook his head, hair splashing water all over before he was burying his face on the back of his neck. Kellin let out a small shout at the sudden coldness, flinching away.

Vic let small chuckles from behind him. But he stopped. His head went heavy, dizzy, his vision went black all of a sudden, his body became heavy. He exhaled slowly, eyes dropping some. Kellin didn't realize. He had a nice smile on his face. He held on Vic's bottom and started running, jumping on the water with Vic.

Kellin emerged quickly after, hair slicking down his face. He felt Vic letting go slowly so he took his hands away from his thighs so he could clean the water from his eyes. He turned around, smiling widely. He didn't see Vic. He blinked, glancing at the trees before he gazed at the water, at the squirming little blob underneath. Kellin's eyes widened and he dived in, wrapping his arms quickly around Vic and pulling him up.

Vic gasped, coughing harshly. Kellin patted his back, staring at him panicked. Vic held Kellin's shoulders as support, one hand covering his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Kellin's eyes were frantic, his fingers were gentle. He took a stride of hair out of Vic's face. Once Vic stopped coughing, he nodded a bit.

"Yeah," he rasped out. "Just feel heavy." Kellin exhaled. His eyes became dark once again. He knew that this all would affect them for a while, he knew. He couldn't help the guilt, couldn't help the regret. He swallowed and nodded slowly.

"Wanna go back?"

"I don't know." Kellin pursed his lips, nodding again. He carried Vic back to the edge of the lake.

Vic tried to shrug the thing off and go back to his previous peppy mood, shoving gently at Kellin's side, and though Kellin shoved back rather playfully, he knew the magic was gone just from the way Kellin's blue-grey-whatever eyes gazed at him with badly hidden concern.

"You're not gonna break me." Vic attempted, smiling encouragingly though it drained the fuck out of him.

Kellin pursed his lips, Vic catching the way his eyes travelled from the scar on his palm, up to his now hidden arm, recalling the bruises and marks underneath, to his shoulder, that was tense and sore, up to his neck, to his prominent cheekbones, all that just to touch down on his sunken eyes. "I might." He responded, voice full of implications.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you think it was just you that made me-- that.. that.." Vic's voice died on his lips, waves of emotional pain begging to destroy the valves of his aorta, like his blood could start flowing backwards just from the shame. "That made me sad. Well. It wasn't." That wasn't what he meant, but he couldn't bring himself to say the rest, the truth, what really had happened.

Kellin shrugged, "Does it really matter though? It happened, regardless, and I played a part."

Vic crossed his arms, looking away. "We were having fun two seconds ago!" He whined, and felt immediately like it wasn't only about the present moment.

"I--... Vic.." Kellin sputtered.

"Yeah. I know. Me too." Vic placed a hand on top of Kellin's, intertwining their fingers and trying his damned best to chill the fuck out two seconds, but for his defence, the other boy wasn't much calmer. He even tensed up at the contact, like he wasn't expecting it.

"We need to talk about all this," Kellin argued, a couple minutes later. The sky was already turning some pretty shade of orangey-pink, which only reminded both of them how hard it had been dragging the other boy's ass here.

"The sky is really pretty," Vic answered in turn, nervously fast.

"Yeah. It really is.."

Vic slowly let his body be pulled down, laying on the ground with his limbs sprawled out. His eyes were kept up there, but he could see that Kellin stared at him for a few seconds before he hesitantly laid down too. Vic hummed a bit.

"Vic," Kellin called, really fucking unwilling after a few seconds. "C'mon, Vic." He lazily dragged half of his body up so he was on his side, facing Vic. "You know it'll be best if we--" Vic closed his eyes tightly.

"Kellin, can you just... Not?" Vic opened his eyes halfway. "I really don't wanna deal with this right now." And Kellin really couldn't miss it; how desperate he was at the same time he was simply exhausted and, my god, even pained. He knew they needed to address it, but, fuck. Kellin thought it would be better to speak, fucking hell, look what happened last time they didn't, but Kellin couldn't just say that, he knew he couldn't spat this out because things would only go downhill from there, he didn't want to drain the little energy Vic still had left. So he swallowed hard, feeling like he'd choke, maybe even tearing up a bit because there was so much to say but how can you speak when no one will listen? Kellin nodded a bit, turning so he was facing the sky.

"We gotta go back soon," Kellin murmured.

"Yeah. Let's stay here for a few more minutes, please." Vic mumbled back. Kellin sighed quietly and nodded.

The return to the cabin was quiet, and then being there was even quieter. Kellin started the fireplace. Vic let his body fall on the couch with a thud. The flames licked at the wood. The fire cracked softly. Vic wished Kellin would join him. Kellin did not join him. Kellin went and sat on a stool, instead. Vic wished Kellin were close enough for their bodies to provide heat for each other. Vic only got the fireplace's heat. Kellin sighed, getting up to pour water into a scotch glass and downing it in one go. Vic didn't see. Vic's back was facing Kellin. Kellin wasn't looking at him. Kellin put the glass in the sink and sat back down on the stool, gazing outside. The stars were now starting to shine. Vic felt at loss. Kellin too.

"I'm tired." Vic declared.

"Then sleep."

"Not like that."

"Sucks."

"Don't start."

"I'm sorry."

"Talk to me."

"About what?"

"Anything but that."

"The sky's pretty." Kellin brought Vic's line up with a dry laugh.

"Please."

Kellin shook his head. "About what?" He repeated.

"Life. Dunno."

"It's a bitch."

"Well fuckin' aware," Vic said, kind of on edge now.

"' Least you found an escape from it, didn't you."

"Know what, I don't wanna talk anymore."

Vic pulled a blanket up to his shoulders, laying down, back towards the fireplace and face smushed against the sofa's backrest.

Vic had his jaw sealed shut, teeth dragging against each other. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. He had enough of holding back and Kellin's presence was offputting. Victor restlessly sat up, taking the sheet with him and walking up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Kellin asked, turning to face him - his back, in this case. Vic rolled his eyes, even though it hurt to do so.

"I told you I'm fuckin' tired." He snapped back. Maybe it was his mood that had been dragged down, maybe it was the lack of drugs but he really didn't want to be around Kellin then. He also really thanked himself for being smart enough to keep a blunt hidden on his sock before Mike found out. He was glad he brought it with him.

"Jeez, what the fuck is wrong with you," Kellin mumbled with his eyebrows furrowed. And maybe he picked the worst time to pull up an attitude. Vic was vibrating inside. He stopped walking.

"Excuse me?" he scoffed, turning to face Kellin. "I'm not the one trying to pick a fight, am I?" He asked sweetly, too sweetly even if his eyes were lit with fire.

"Well, it seems like it," Kellin answered with the same amount of sarcasm. Vic gritted his teeth. He inhaled. Counted to ten. He turned around and hurried to the room he was staying in. And he was also glad that Kellin didn't want to share a room them, though his heart ached. He locked the door. He grabbed his pack and opened. He took the small bag inside and opened it too, taking the lighter and the already rolled blunt. He opened the window.

Everything was happening in slow motion, Vic's index and thumb on the blunt as he just looked at it, the thrill that soon invaded his heart, the anticipation. He really couldn't wait, and yet wanted to drag it out, because he felt so good at this very moment, so good and self-destructive and vengeful. 'Look at me, Kellin.' He thought bitterly. It was oh-so-childish, but he just wanted to go back downstairs and show him, show him that he could do whatever he pleased, even if it destroyed him, that he didn't need Kellin for this or that. He felt free. Vic brought it up to his lips, playing with the lighter's flame a little before letting it rest at the end of the blunt.

It was a matter of instants, and already, Vic felt better. Stupidly enough, he knew it hadn't kicked in, it was purely placebo effect, purely the knowledge that it would. He felt safe again, in control of an uncontrollable situation, it felt good to have his hands back on the steering wheel, though rationally, it was all the opposite. If anything, he was back falling down the good old slippery slope.

In the meantime, Kellin, downstairs, was trying to control his emotions and thought process. He hated hurting Vic, which was kind of ironic for how much it had been happening lately. It made him stop and wonder whether it was karma getting back at him or just one of those bad turns life takes at times. And. Oh. Letting his fists fall down on the granite countertop may not have been his idea of the year. That hurt, actually. Kellin was trying not to think about what could possibly be happening upstairs, trying to keep his brain mad at Vic, trying not to blame himself, trying to convince himself that it was the withdrawals talking while also telling himself they could get through it just with a little love and a little hope. They weren't broken, just bent.

Vic felt so much better already, and the buzz inside his head was slowly quieting down, like things were finally starting to fall into place, he could see with more clarity now, the universe aligning for him, so that he could understand. The stars shone beautifully that night, it felt like they were shining just for him, with their big, glassy-eye shine, full of promises and full of future. Who cares if they had died fifty years ago, their light was getting to Vic then, at that precise moment, and that's all that matters. Vic wanted to radiate light, just like one of them, he wanted to quit being such a little black hole.

Kellin felt inside that something was off. He didn't dwell for long since the feeling had been there for quite some time now, though he could never really grow used to it. He sighed and closed his eyes. It wore down on him, his insides churning and twisting and his everything simply a quivering mess. It was agonizing. He stood up and gazed around. Kellin hated it. He exhaled, his eyes flickering to anywhere but his clenched fists. He ground his teeth together. The fridge. He wasn't hungry but at least he would have something to do while passing time. Damn him for his no-contact-with-the-outside-world decision.

As soon as he opened the fridge his eyes fell on the bottle on the door. He exhaled slowly. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? He hesitantly shifted his weight before he turned his head to glance behind him. It wouldn't hurt a glass. He swallowed. The wine taunted him, and as much as his brain set different paranoias on him, as much as it felt wrong, it still felt... Satisfying. A gulp wouldn't hurt anybody. So he held the bottle on his hands, staring at it lost, his heart pumping quickly at the thrill of doing something wrong, like a kid eating chocolate at night without their parent's knowledge, even though there were no parents, really, but rather an addicted ex-boyfriend and the chocolate was a traphole.

He froze. He blinked hard. He shook his head and pushed every thought away. One glass followed by the thought that one more wouldn't hurt until he was drunk off of wine that he asked to be brought at some sort of celebration times ago.

Vic heard a loud noise and was shaken out of his stupor, his eyes leaving the beautiful night sky, tears hanging onto the edge of his waterline, and meeting the wall, the floor, the door, the knob. It sounded like a stumble and a thump, and, shit, that's unusual...

Now Vic was high, but he wasn't _high_ , and the noise had been loud enough to evoke a certain worry within him.

"Kellin...?" He called reluctantly, swallowing back his pride.

The silence echoed.

"Kells?"

Vic's breathing picked up, putting out the joint and throwing it out the window for lack of a better place to hide it as he crossed the room and, without a second thought, pulled the door open. He hesitated again on the edge of the staircase, but whatever Kellin could say to him for being high wasn't more important than protecting his love of a potential threat. Though they were gone to shit and could barely be called any more than acquaintances, for even friends don't put each other through that sort of stuff. His feet hit each stair tread with extreme lightness, almost as if he was jumping more than running downstairs, cancelling the momentum his body had gained by hanging on to the railing for dear life as he got to the end of it.

"Kellin." He constated, shaken by the sight that awaited.


	5. Medicine (Devil In My Head)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the quality declines from here on its bc its all mine ~ Bee
> 
> Not edited

Something about seeing people you love in a broken-down state is world-wrecking. Watching their dull eyes far too fogged up into a dissociative state like you've seen yourself in so many times is, to say the least, painful. A regretful moment where you stop to over-analyze everything you've ever done in your life, to evaluate your choices and actions. Victor seemed to be doing these last ones more often than not, but seeing Kellin lying down on the ground, the decorative plant beside his feet also tumbled down and an empty bottle of wine not too far from him limp body was a picture of which Victor could never forget, all because of that look on Kellin's eyes. Victor swallowed hard, kneeling down beside Kellin, watching as his grey stare slowly flickered up to Victor.

Kellin was so far away, so fluttery and watching the world in someone else's eyes, far too numb to risk moving and break down the safety of which he floated over. And Victor was, almost, the same. High, too high yet not enough. Hovering between bliss and hell onto a completely unbalanced rope that could snap any given second.

"Shit," Victor mumbled to himself, crouching down and tilting his head, eyes bloodshot but, hey, he still felt fine! Sort of. "We need to get you to bed."

Kellin's lips curled, his throat rumbled with a hum.

"Sleep... I don't wanna sleep."

Victor just sighed, grasping Kellin's arm and tugging him up, but he was a full grown ass man and Victor wasn't exactly at best shape, his lanky, bruised, weak arms doing nothing despite Vic's effort. Kellin just watched, head tumbled to the side, eyes dull yet twinkling with some deep emotion that Kellin wasn't capable of recognizing at that moment.Amusement and sadness all the same, maybe.

"C'mon," Victor groaned. "Get up."

Kellin's lips curled.

"You get up," he murmured, tilting his head back up. Victor blinked then sighed. After debating with himself whether he should get Kellin up to bed somehow or let him be, Vic kneeled, gaze tracing out the living room, paying attention to the emptiness then back at Kellin, who stared at the ceiling quietly. Victor glanced up. The ceiling was far from impressive but, much like Kellin, he was tired. Tired and sick and numb and... Done. So Victor slowly laid down beside Kellin, looking up, gaze just as dull.

There they stood. Motionless, emotionless. Just another meaningless background detail on their own lives, another stranger passing by, another lost soul wandering in the darkness. They didn't stood out like the ceiling did for them. They weren't the main characters, not now, not there.

The silence was sweet - heavy, of course, always - but still sweet. When you got nothing to say nor do you want to hear what someone else has to say, silence is so dear. But there was so much to say. So much to address, so much to apologise for. Victor didn't want to quiet down and nod anymore. But, again, he had nothing to say - or words, he had no words.

"You gonna be hungover," Victor murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at Kellin. If you don't know how to address something, start with the obvious, right? A blink, slow, lazy, grounding, and Kellin tilted his head too.

"You gon' be withdrawing," Kellin's lips curled but there was nothing funny about that and even in that mindset he knew. Victor looked away but Kellin didn't.

Silence again.

Bitter. Defeated. Point my flaws and I'll point yours. Kellin sighed.

"Can't do much 'bout it now, can I?" Kellin spoke rhetorically, fingers moving slightly to drum on the ground. Victor glanced at him again.

"About you being drunk?" Victor murmured, eyes fluttering, mouth barely moving. Kellin's lips curled distastefully.

"No."

Victor shook his head once, still staring.

"It's in the past."

"Is it? D'you, like, don't wanna get high no more?"

Victor's eyes cast down to Kellin's chin. Quiet. If I don't say it out loud it doesn't seem real. Kellin grinned.

"It ain't in the past, that's bullshit," Kellin scoffed out a chuckle, gazing up again. "It's all here 'nd I doubt it'll leave so soon. We both know that."

Victor's stare traced up to Kellin's cheek, then his eye. He didn't want to speak. Didn't want to agree or disagree, didn't want to argue, didn't want to do shit. So he just stared, for a long time, not turning away even when Kellin turned to look at him. Neither of them looked away, they just... Took each other in. Faces they've seen everyday for a while on their lives, faces that they could never get enough, loving, sweet faces that they seen at their best and at their worst. Smiling, laughing, loving, crying, breaking, empty faces that would never go away.

Victor's lips curled.

"You never showed me," Victor murmured, shifting his body so he was facing Kellin. He blinked several times before frowning, shuffling his body to face Victor as well.

"Showed you what?"

Victor blinked, eyes wandering away for a moment. He exhaled.

"The photos. Of younger you with the-" Victor brought his hand to his face, pointing at his own lips. "The snake bites."

"Oh," Kellin blinked a few times, scrunching his face with a wince. His eyes fluttered shut, tilting his face to the ground as an attempt to hide it. "God, no."

"You promised you would show me," Victor cackled, pushing his face to the ground a little, his nose hovering above the ground.

"Jesus, that's- no," Kellin faced Vic again just to shake his head. "Too damn cringy," Kellin grinned a little. Victor's smile widened.

"I wanna see it."

"No, Vic," a chuckle. "No."

"I wanna see!" Victor dragged out his words in a breathy laugh. Kellin snickered.

"Course you do," Kellin sighed, still smiling lightly. He shifted forward a little, just a bit, laying his head on his arm. Victor mirrored him with a smile, his hand between them, brushing slightly against Kellin's. They were closer now, with little space between them. Kellin's eyes flickered down to their hand, Victor mirrored him once again.

His fingers twitched slightly under their eyes. They moved as if no one was seeing, stealthily, slowly inching closer before Kellin raised his pointer finger to rest atop Victor's pointer finger's nail. Kellin let his hand stand still for a moment before he was moving his hand now to push his fingers between Victor's, earning himself a twitch of Victor's hand. And Kellin felt disappointed because he was so sure that Vic would take his hand away but he got so soft when Victor spread his fingers before lacing them with Kellin's.

His lips curled softly. Kellin moved his eyes back up. Victor was still staring at their hands with a nostalgic glint on his eyes, lips parted slightly.

Why can't things go back to what they were before?

"I'll show you." Kellin whispered. Soft, safe, keeping thoughts to himself. Victor's eyes flickered up. "When we get back home."

And Victor searched for something, anything over Kellin's foggy stare. He found it. Vic wasn't all too sure over what he was looking for but whatever it was, it was there. So he smiled, showing just a little of his teeth, eyes getting a whole new spark. He seemed hopeful. At ease like he was yet to be.

Kellin wasn't sure exactly just what was happening but the moment was soft and ease and sweet; the air around them was light like it haven't been for so long now. He really didn't want to ruin the moment, fuck no. Even if he was still considerably drunk, he wasn't shit-faced. He smiled back. Reassurance, maybe for himself, maybe for Victor, maybe for both.

Victor shifted closer, noses brushing together. A hopeless romantic whose heart pleaded for a break and a soft moment. And maybe it was the same heart that made Vic break his face every time but Victor wanted to hear it so deaflessly. So he did it. He sealed their lips together with a hopeful tone underneath his tongue, with the same faith that things would turn around and that he would be enough and that they would be okay. The very same faith that always buried him under the ground, that always left him hollow. But maybe this time would be different, he told himself. Like he always did.

But Victor was thinking too much. Always thinking too much. He had to get back onto the present where things were hidden, where the false pretense of peace controlled their every movement. So Victor allowed himself to just live, leaning closer and parting his lips over Kellin's upper lip.

Kellin's fingers tightened slightly over Victor's, tilting his head to trace his tongue over Victor's bottom lip. It was slow. Savouring the moment, maybe. Bittersweet, definitely, no thanks to the wine taste over Kellin's lips. A hello after what was supposed to be a final goodbye.

I missed this. Missed you. So much. Please don't leave again, I'm fucking begging you. Please, give me another chance. I'm so fucking sorry, so fucking lost. Please.

Saying it out loud wasn't an option, though. So instead, Kellin just pushed his head closer, inhaling slowly. Maybe then he could breathe Victor in and never breathe out again.

But there was this smell, so faint, so far and different from Vic, and Kellin really took a while to understand what it was. He had to breathe in again, still kissing Victor slowly, still holding his hand, still allowing his soul to finally rest once again.

Victor's lips were chapped but still had the same softness he always did, still had that same Victor taste despite the change it had, still had the same gentleness and still was _Victor_ , and there was nothing better than Victor.

Weed. The smell, weed.

Kellin jerked back, suddenly, hastily, eyes snapping open as he propped himself upon his elbow, hands slipping away far too easily from Victor's grasp.. Victor snapped his eyes open, blinking several times with a clueless look on his face.

"You-" Kellin let out, scoffing in disbelief. Sobriety wasn't there yet but he wasn't in a bubble anymore. "You were smoking."

Victor immediately moved his eyes away, sitting up.

Time to come back to reality. Why can't the good things last?

"You brought drugs with you," Kellin exclaimed. Victor got up.

"Good night, Kellin," Victor mumbled.

"What?! No, you-"

But Victor was taking one final glance and hurrying out of his sight before Kellin could say anything else. He just needed to see the disappointment and disbelief. Needed a reminder of why he was where he was, needed a reminder over just how failed Victor was. A piece of shit.

Or maybe he just needed to check and see if Kellin really did care. Maybe it wasn't a self-depreciative movement but a protective one. Kellin cared more about everyone else than Victor, right? So maybe it really was to check if Victor finally grabbed his attention once again.

Hell, maybe this whole thing was about it. Maybe the drugs, the alcohol, the addition was all to see if Kellin would fucking notice. Victor knew deep inside that it wasn't that way that things worked and that the thought itself was pretty outrageous but, really, what if? If he couldn't get Kellin to care about him at his best, then at his worst would do it.

And Victor wasn't sure whether the sudden anger he felt inside of him was directed at Kellin or at himself, or if it was because his body craved more than weed and it wasn't getting what it wanted. Fucking hell, maybe the three of those. But he was also too fucking tired and he no longer had the only blunt he bought.

Victor just didn't know that nothing grabbed Kellin's attention more than his little grin where his upper teeth were visible and his little cheek dimple showed. He didn't know that his happiness was what made Kellin happy, didn't know that nothing gave him hope for a better future than the glimpses of who Victor was before.

But Vic had changed. As much as Kellin liked to play pretend, Victor was different. He was sick. A broken down shape that could barely keep itself together, a faint distorted little shadow of broken little pieces.

Kellin really wished he could save him. He would take it back, take it all back and away and, fucking hell, he would change his entire perspective and personality if that meant that Victor would have been untouched. He would have gone to sick lengths if it meant that Victor wouldn't have deteriorated as he did.

He would have. He didn't. Kellin wasn't a super hero or a kind of god, he was just another human. The past was unchangeable, Kellin couldn't take it back. So now he had to deal with the consequences of taking Victor for granted whilst Victor would have to deal with the consequences of giving Kellin his all and more.

Kellin pushed himself up, sitting on the ground, slouched, staring at nothing. His eyes flickered to the fallen plant by his feet. It was still down, with some of its dirt splinted on the ground, close to it. He stared. He stared and stared and his bottom lip began trembling and his nose stung a bit and his eyes began to fill with tears. Kellin took a deep breath, his eyes falling away from the plant. He blinked several times. Kellin pushed his body so he was crouched down, moving closer to the plant. Kellin pushed the pot up before he swooped the dirt onto his palm, dumping it back onto where it belonged. He stared some more. Eyes heavy, lost, powerless, lips parted.

Kellin dusted his hands before grabbing the empty bottle of wine, standing up. What was he supposed to do now? Why was he even there first place? How did he get there? Why did he let himself get there?

Kellin swallowed hard. The couch. Right. Kellin went to the couch, crashing down on it. The way he fell was the way he remained; face digging on its arm, head uncomfortable, feet on the ground. His eyes were still open, staring ahead at the fireplace. There was so much on his head. So much to think about, so much to dig, so much to regret.

He was wearing thin. The words and phrases crashed around his skull over and over and they didn't stop and they got worse and they kept getting louder and louder and Kellin was completely still despite how harsh they were because, fucking hell I deserve this, don't I?

Kellin didn't do anything to stop his mind from running. He just let himself get closer and closer to snapping up and breaking down. And he was so weak. He was breaking himself down just for the goddamn sake of it.

He cried that night. Silently, staring ahead, letting the tears drip down his nose and onto the couch, jaw clenched. So weak.

Kellin didn't sleep. Time didn't seem to pass for him whilst he let himself be pulled under. Kellin remained unmoving, staring ahead, faded onto the background. He was just a memory.

And maybe, just maybe, that's what he wanted to be.

*-*-*-*-*

The night wasn't exactly the most glamorous of Victor's. He couldn't sleep, staring at the ceiling, body hot, hands trembling, allowing the darkness to smother him as he blended into it as smoothly as he could.

He needed to get high. He had nothing there, he couldn't get high. Victor was on the edge between healthy and insane already.

But for his own sake, he got up. Pacing around the room and taking deep breaths, hands trembling like they weren't supposed to. But staying inside that room was suffocating. And Victor could see through the window that the sun was beginning to come up with a soft little hello before it got comfortable enough to give its all. Victor quickly decided that enough was enough and got out of there.

Something about that hallway was daunting. The silence that seemed to swirl around mocking Victor for all his failures and mistakes made him shrunk down, the far-too-tall walls were downright judging and Victor was so small. A stick surrounded by centuries old palm trees, nothing in comparison. Suffocating. Scary.

But he took a deep breath and moved forward, reaching the small set of stairs that would lead him into the living room. Floating yet so heavy. A ghost attached to too many baggages, invisible and struggling to carry on. A deep breath wasn't enough but for now it would have to be otherwise it would be goodbye.

But breathing was hard. Walking was hard, keeping himself up was hard, finding his reality was hard. Victor grasped the edge of the staircase, leaning onto the handrail. His knees were weak, his mind weaker.

But he still went on. Step by step, clutching the handrail for dear life, heart pumping over its own breathless beat.

Even before his feet hit the last stair, his eyes immediately found Kellin. Drapped over the couch, staring ahead with the same lifeless gaze Kellin got over and over when he was sure Victor wasn't looking.

But this time Kellin didn't bother to cover up. His eyes flickered to Victor for a second where they just stared at each other. Once again they were nothing but careless strangers. Victor didn't want to do that but at this point, no matter how desperately he wanted, he couldn't get up, smile, pretend that everything is fine. His sweating, hot body was a reminder along the churning on his stomach. Kellin's deep bags under his eyes, the bored yet restless look on his face were reminders.

Victor couldn't pretend that everything was fine because things were _not_ fine. Kellin at least didn't seem fine and Victor _definitely_ didn't feel fine. They were a mess and it was finally time to clean up because fake it until you make it wasn't working anymore.

Victor tightened his grip, watching as Kellin's eyes drifted away. He let go of the handrail, exhaling slowly. Kellin seemed a daydream away, shook onto a next-life unconsciousness as his fantasies and internalised thoughts got shaped right before his eyes. Victor knew, he had been there before so many times, before and after Kellin; Hell, on that very second Victor was barely scraping the surface of reality. But someone had to wake up.

Victor walked closer to the couch, every step too far from the ground, the carpet tickling his bare feet barely but enough so there was a certain awareness. Vic placed his hand atop Kellin's arm, twirling his finger over his shirt's sleeve. That made the clouded look on his face lessen, getting a blink out of Kellin. He turned his head to stare at Victor, barely, seeming somewhere between heavy confusion and a deadpan.

Victor breathed in. Lungs and ribcage expanding, able to feel his heart pumping even in that forfeited headspace. Words, so many words descending upon his tongue just to melt at the contact with Victor's teeth, dissolving onto a bitter cold taste that Victor felt so many times before yet every time was worse. He swallowed the words down, once again, as always.

"Let's eat breakfast."

Kellin nodded once, blinking again and again, trying to come back down. Victor took notice that there were no more bottles around but the one that and fallen from Kellin's hand at some point.

He was sober and Victor was too. Maybe now it was time for them to speak. But could they do it? Were they strong enough?

Kellin pushed himself up slowly, heavy bloodshot eyes carefully tracing Victor's features. Careful as if he would break at any second, sacred that he might vanish right before his eyes. Tired, really tired. Selfishly tired.

Victor wasn't too different there. Careful and scared, exhausted. He raised his hand, grasping the edge of Kellin's shirt, not looking up at him, staring at his own hand. He twirled his finger, twisting he shirt so his finger was sort of stuck. He said nothing but tugged Kellin's shirt softly when he started walking again.

Knowing that he wasn't alone was different. Walking over the house with another life right beside him was... Calming. Not exactly calming but it was the closest thing to it that Victor had felt for a far-too-long time.

Victor didn't let go of Kellin's shirt and it was cute, for the lack of a better word. It reminded Kellin of the mornings where Vic would do that when Kellin tried to drift off to the couch instead of the kitchen for breakfast, or when they were taking a walk, hidden from prying eyes, always, and Victor had those puppy eyes that pleaded for affection, Kellin's shirt wrapped around his finger. There were so many other times, too, but these moments were the one that softened Kellin the most.

Something he realised was that Victor was always the one holding onto him. Be it with Kellin's shirt wrapped around his finger, be it with him clutching Kellin's sleeve, be it with him reaching out for Kellin's pinkie with his, Victor was always trying to hold onto Kellin somehow.

It would have been more adorable for Kellin had not his mind reminded him that some, maybe most, of these times Kellin was pushing Victor away after that.

They carefully walked over the small step that led to the kitchen, the same step that knocked Kellin down on the past night.

Kellin mindlessly, blankly, reached up and grasped the end of Vic's shirt as he had done with him many times before. Kellin had earned a second chance. It was now his turn to reciprocate it, his turn to cling onto Victor with his all.

Vic kept sending Kellin this confused look from time to time as they ate because Kellin was yet to drop his shirt. Kellin pretended to be oblivious to those looks. Until Victor turned to Kellin, holding his half-eaten sandwich with squinted eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm eating," Kellin scoffed, hiding his smile with a big munch at the 'bitch' face Vic pulled.

"No, I mean..." Vic nodded at Kellin's hand, quirking his eyebrows. Kellin just looked away, ignoring Vic. He sighed, taking one last glance at Kellin and his hand before he started eating again. The hand was quickly forgotten as the sight of Kellin's little... "moment", flashed behind Vic's eyelids. His jaw began working slower and his eyes fluttered shut for a second before he took a deep breath, quickly finishing his food. Kellin finished it in a few as well, just staying there because Vic wasn't moving a muscle.

Talk, talk, talk. Address it so things are solved later, just talk.

"What-" Vic said suddenly, drawing a sharp breath in, shifting on his chair so he faced Kellin's general direction but kept his stare away from him. "-What happened yesterday?"

Kellin let go of Vic's shirt.

"I don't know," Kellin murmured before he got up, grabbing both their plates and placing on the sink before he started washing them. Vic sighed deeply.

"Why can't you just talk to me?" Victor spoke exasperated, sounding so tired already. It didn't help that his stomach was, maybe, rejecting the food. Kellin scrunched his nose, glancing back at Vic.

"I _am_ talking to you," he snorted without a trace of happiness in his voice. Victor stared at the back of his head. Kellin put the plates away and dried his hands, shooting Victor what was supposed to be a goofy grin but it seemed far too sarcastic.

"Now, if you don't mind," Kellin put the little towel thing down, starting to walk away. "I'm gonna go do stuff."

"I'm not done." But Kellin just shrugged, opening the kitchen door. Victor hummed, nodding a little. Victor wasn't sure if he was angry or annoyed, probably both, but he did know that he was _done_.

"If you walk out of that door right now," Soft, slow, making sure Kellin understood every word. "I can assure you that you will never see my face again."

Victor stared at his own hands, tapping his fingers on the table, seeing Kellin standing there frozen from the corner of his eye. The intensity of Kellin's disbelieving glare was enough to make Victor look up expectantly, face straight enough to let Kellin know that, no, this wasn't a threat.

It was a promise.

Upon realising that Kellin was yet to move a single muscle over passed seconds where they, once again, just stared at each other, Victor motioned to the chair in front of him.

"Sit down, yeah?"

Kellin just looked at him for a few seconds before he reluctantly stepped away from the door, sitting on the chair rather stunned.

"Now," Victor leaned back on the chair, hands still above the table, and Kellin could notice that there was a slight tremble on them, even if Vic was tapping his fingers on the table. "Talk. Tell me what happened yesterday. Why'd you get drunk?"

Kellin shrugged, lips curling in a sneer for a second. "Dunno. I mean, why'd you get high?" And Kellin seemed to think that he was absolutely genius because then he crossed his arms and gave Vic a sort of stern, disappointed look. Victor's lips curled and he tilted his head.

"When did you became an alcoholic?" Victor leaned forward, placing his fist under his cheek to keep his head up. Kellin's gaze was melted into surprise, making he blink several times.

"I'm not," Kellin defended himself quickly. Victor raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? Then why are you comparing me to you?" Vic bit his lip expectantly.

He knew he had a problem. He had, at least, to acknowledge so; the lack of heroin on his system made him sweat awfully much, every single thought going through his head was about, or had a connection with, the drug. He couldn't sleep and he couldn't stop feeling awful. A non-addicted wouldn't be experiencing this. And despite the shame it brought him, he could recognise it.

Kellin looked like he really couldn't reply to that. So instead he uncrossed his arms and laid them on his lap, thinking a little too hard. Then, finally, he decided to speak.

"I just... Felt bad." A shuttering sigh and an awkward purse of his lips before he shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back. Victor frowned.

"About what?" And then Kellin sighed again, exasperated.

The difference between them that always let Kellin perplexed was Victor's easiness to open up. It oftenly contrasted with Kellin's 'shut-up-and-shove-down' mannerisms that had been there ever since he could remember. Or maybe not, there were times that he tried opening up before. Times where all the responses he got were 'suck it up', or 'aren't you a man? stop crying' and, really, younger him always promised himself to not be alike to his parents and family but whether he liked it or not, he was just a spat-out image of them nowadays. And like the very same history of his parents, Kellin was pushing his lover away and down and making sure he was destroyed enough to stay because only then would Victor really want to be beside him.

Kellin uncurled his fingers from around his wrist slowly. Well, that... That's not true. No, no wait, no no no no no Kellin wasn't like his father. No, of- of course not, he... He wasn't...

He was.

"Kellin?"

Kellin blinked a few times, focusing back on Victor. The consequences of his actions had never been so prominent. Victor just looked so sick, even maybe like he was nearing death. The tone of his skin made him look ill, cheeks and eyes sunken in unhealthily, lips colourless. And even with the slight hint of concern on his face, Kellin was yet to find the little spark of life he had seen last night.

And Kellin couldn't formulate words. He just stared and stared and he got shaken up as the seconds passed because Kellin could have easily been the cause of Victor's literal demise. Apologies pooled over his tongue so fast, too fast, each tumbling upon each other and Kellin was really close to spilling it and then he opened his mouth. A reality check is never nice but it's always what we need.

"How are you feeling?" was all that came out. Weak, pretty pathetic yet still filled with sadness that had definitely stunned Victor for a second. His eyes wandered away for a second before he focused back on Kellin, tilting his head with a heavy exhale. Victor had to stop and think about it momentarily.

"Sick," he nodded, fingers curling over the edge of the table. "I'm gonna throw up."

And Kellin just looked at him so pained before he let a nod of his own. It got a little awkward before Kellin licked his lips.

"Now?"

Victor swallowed, shrugging.

"In a few."

Another nod, another awkward silence. The difference is that Kellin's mind began projecting back onto last night, over what he felt, what he thought, what it was. About Victor, now and then, his smile, his tears, his love, his hate, his everything, his nothing.

"About hurting you."

Victor blinked, looking up confused. He tilted his head slightly.

"That's why I..." Kellin finished with a shrug. And Victor remembered their prior conversation. That's why I g _ot_ _drunk_.

Victor looked at Kellin sympathetically even though Kellin didn't deserve any kind of sympathy. His choices led him there, it wasn't an unfortunate event that happened because the universe said so. Victor was aware of that and so was Kellin. So instead of apologising and cradling Kellin, Victor just nodded. Because, yeah, you hurt me. I guess you end up hurting yourself as well and, well, that's on you.

"Thank you for talking to me," Victor said, taking a deep breath, stomach churning. Kellin nodded awkwardly. But then Victor stood up, suddenly, looking nauseous as hell. Kellin got up too, leaning forward but not touching Victor.

"Now?" Kellin urged, Victor nodded, barely. A second later and Victor was rushing to the bathroom, Kellin following right behind.

Victor quickly dropped to his knees, pushing the lid open, coughing and gagging while Kellin pulled his hair back. And then he threw up. Heaving and gagging and letting everything he ate and more out to the point where he shook, his stomach aching and his throat burning. Kellin just scrunched his face, rubbing Vic's back.

He was burning up.

And then Victor was done, breathing heavily, taking huge gulps of air, involuntary tears over his eyes. He leaned back onto his feet, head tilting back. Kellin reached up a hand to his forehead, even if he was aware that Victor most likely had a fever.

"Take a cold shower," Kellin murmured, sighing out. Victor blinked up at him a few times before he nodded a little, standing up and closing the lid before flushing. He was pretty embarrassed yet there wasn't energy left enough for him to care about that.

So Victor just turned his back to Kellin and started undressing, careless whether Kellin looked or not. Nothing he haven't seen. Kellin left anyways, to do god knows what while Vic turned the shower on the coldest setting, scrunching his face. He usually was the one to take skin-melting showers so he got under the water with a shutter and a wince. But his body was so hot that midway through the drops sliding down, the water was far warmer than when it dripped over his head.

The cold water wasn't bothering Victor as it would have before. It felt good, sort of, and it was cool enough to make his shoulders drop and his eyes slip shut. It soothed everything momentarily, especially the sort of headache he didn't realise he had. There were no thoughts invading his head but his mind was furthering away with each passing second, he wasn't nauseous despite the awful taste on his mouth, he wasn't about to collapse on the ground and stay there.

Maybe he was. He couldn't decide.

Kellin was back at the bathroom again with a cup of water in hand, face too damn sad. Victor glanced up at Kellin in a daze, looking through him instead of at him. And he didn't mean to but that thin line between being lost in his head and staying grounded had snapped and both were the same but that meant that Victor would stay grounded on his daydreams.

Kellin's adam's apple bobbed slightly, a heavy shutter following along before a heavy exhale left his parted lips. He placed the clothes he got on the toilet and the towel he hung over the hook, motioning to Vic the cup in his hand that he left on the sink.

"You feeling better?" Kellin mumbled. Victor didn't know for what reason Kellin was staring at him so sadly and honestly, it was getting a little annoying. Victor nodded nonetheless, shutting the water off. He had stood there for a while already.

"Thanks," Victor murmured as he wrapped the towel around his waist, sighing a little. Kellin was just there, staring. Victor tried to ignore it as he slipped his boxers on, glancing at Kellin from time to time when he slipped his shorts on. He was getting restless.

"What?" Victor asked, slipping his shirt on, crossing his arms a little. Kellin blinked, gazing at Victor's face. Softly, lovingly, apologetically. Raw, no walls, no fronts, no lies. Kellin's lips quivered.

"Since I met you," Kellin spoke weakly, letting out a breath through his lips. Victor wasn't expecting. Victor wasn't complaining. "All the gloomy days seemed... to shine little more brightly," Kellin stepped closer to Victor, scrunching his nose slightly, swallowing hard. Victor couldn't help the way his lips parted bewildered. Kellin seemed too vulnerable, even more than when Victor left. He seemed to be emotionally bare for once. Kellin's lips curled despite their slight trembling. Kellin reached up, hands cupping Victor's cheeks so softly. He couldn't afford breaking Victor anymore.

"You're the only thing in this world that made me feel really okay," Kellin's voice lowered to a mere whisper. His lips curled more, they quivered more. "You're the only thing I can't lose," Kellin gave a lighthearted chuckle. He leaned forward. "Nothing makes sense without you, nothing matters when you're not around, oh no," Kellin shook his head before he leaned in, resting his forehead against Victor's. "No one loves me like you do. And I just wanna say sorry," another pained chuckle. "Sorry for being a fucking idiot. Sorry for taking you for granted, sorry for never listening. I'm so fucking sorry, Victor."

And his lips only parted more. That was something new, huh? Kellin pulled back a little, giving Victor time enough to see that Kellin's eyes were glistening. Victor's eyes rounded slightly. His face was a sort of awe and confusion yet he seemed pleased. Kellin didn't really mind that Victor didn't say anything. He rubbed Vic's cheekbones with his thumb, shamefully sniffing.

"I can't change," Kellin whispered so silently that Victor barely caught it.

I love you. I'm so sorry.

Victor reached up, gently grasping Kellin's wrist. His eyes were twinkling.

It's okay.

Kellin gazed at Victor's bony hand with even more sorrow. His hands weakened but didn't fell from Vic's face.

It's not.

Kellin let go of Victor, breathing out slowly.

"Drink your water, lay down a bit, yeah? We can go out to the lake again later, take a walk or just chill out."

Soft. Kellin was a step away from falling forward. He couldn't see how deep the abyss ahead was. Kellin, in fact, couldn't see anything. He was in the dark, hands reaching out in front of him so blindly. But he knew the floor under him was starting to cave. Without his light, his sunshine, his world was breaking apart. And that wouldn't have been as bad if he hasn't known that his sunshine wasn't away, but rather losing his light. It wouldn't have been as bad if Kellin wasn't aware that he was the one to steal his sunshine's light as greedily, selfishly as he did.

"Alright," Victor whispered rather dumbfounded. Kellin nodded, tapping the doorway twice before he left the room. Victor stared at his back and then at the spot where Kellin had been for a few.

Did that just happened or that was his imagination?

Victor blinked several times before he raised his eyebrows to himself. Huh?

And Kellin acted weird all day. Always soft, always treating Victor gently. It occurred to Victor that his promise of leaving was far more effective than he thought and he got a little pissed because would Kellin really only treat him lovingly if he believed that Victor would leave him? I mean, it's what he did last time.

Victor, however, didn't allow himself to dwell on it anymore. He just let himself enjoy being coddled and held, because Kellin did hold him for the longest time. It was so lovely, Victor could really cry. Kellin gave him so much affection that day, just like Victor always dreamed of him doing so.

But Victor knew Kellin.

He couldn't help but wonder for how long that would last.


	6. How It Feels To Be Lost

The days passed and Victor was confused where he stood on. He, on one side, had his left foot in hell. The headaches, the fevers, the sudden rage outbursts, the awful churning on his stomach, the fact that he couldn't sleep for shit, it all was hellish. Victor was so annoyed at the withdrawal, so damn tired of it too. He craved heroin so bad sometimes, he desperately wished he could get a fix as soon as possible and he fantasised about it more often than not. His cravings got so bad that he started hating it.

On the other side, he had his other foot in heaven. Kellin was a whole other person. Not really, his sense of humour was still just as shitty as it had always been but Victor had never felt as loved before. Kellin was most of the time with him. Rubbing his back when he threw up, cradling him close once he was done, kissing his forehead and always murmuring over how things would be alright, I'm here, I got you. Hell, even breakfast in bed, cuddles whenever Vic was up to it, letting Vic rant his ass off when he was raging, silent hair pettings with a tight arm around him when Victor wanted to cry and sob his lungs out... Things weren't okay but they would be.

So Victor couldn't really decide how things were going. Because, like it or not, Victor was being left in the dark. As much as Kellin was being openly affectionate and loving, certain aspects of him were still locked on a chest, wrapped tightly in chains somewhere deep in the ocean, maybe as a new fish's house; and Victor knew Kellin enough to see that something was or had changed. Some parts of Kellin were hidden away so hard from Victor that Kellin was turning blank and emotionless over Victor's eyes despite that little emotional moment in the bathroom after Vic threw up because he couldn't help but wonder if this is really who Kellin is? How genuine is all of this? Who is he?

So Victor tried to ignore his brain, tried to move on. He tried to let it go but how? He can't let go of this, he doesn't know who Kellin really is anymore. An asshole-ish boyfriend who hides Victor with all his might? The man who was jumping around like a kid when his favourite song came on, pulling Victor up to slow dance with him in the dark despite how fast and agitated the song was? The man who would wake him up with neck kisses or the man who would roll on top of him and shake him and whine until Victor was fully up? Was Kellin the man who pushed him away after a confession, after he sang Kellin a love song? Who called him a faggot, who blamed him for falling in love? Was he the one that wouldn't let Victor get up despite him having to do stuff, who would wrap all his limbs tightly around Victor, not letting him up from the couch because, his words, not Victor's, 'he haven't been cuddled enough'?

Who was Kellin, essentially?

A scared dork who messed up too big sometimes because of irrational fear or a selfish snob who didn't want to be alone, so he preyed on the easiest idiot out there?

Victor wouldn't know. No, he couldn't think about it right now. He couldn't try and figure this out when his body was melted down on the softest sheets, limbs lazily wrapped on his ex(?), soft little breaths and sighs escaping his parted lips as the man who troubled him so hard, so badly, let his lips press down on the skin of his neck, parting them, sucking ever so softly whilst his tongue traced the place over and over, teeth grazing Vic's skin gently but not too gently.

Victor wouldn't know. He didn't want to know. Not at that moment, at least. Fingers tangled on Kellin's hair, his other hand rubbing Kellin's shoulder too fondly. Kellin had left other little marks there, littered over Victor's skin in a way that made Kellin dream about the past, love the present, wish for the future.

He could never get enough of Victor. Ever.

Kellin began to trace his lips up, slowly, softly, lovingly, fingers curled over Vic's sides. Victor was always so small under him but now? His fragility made him even smaller and, although it was a little thing that Kellin used to adore teasing Vic for, now he despised it.

His lips pressed against Victor's jaw, a soft bite over his skin, another breathy sigh from Victor, a shift of his body and his hands tightening around Kellin momentarily.

Victor was only smaller because he was unhealthy. Kellin hated the fact that he was unhealthy. But on the bright side, Victor did seem far better than when they first came to the cottage. He didn't seem a hundred per cent fine, he still seemed slightly sick, but not like he was about to drop dead. The symptoms of the withdrawals had lessened, too, over those almost two weeks that had gone by.

Kellin gave Victor's cheek a soft kiss before he let his lips cover Victor's once again. Kellin kissed him far more gently than he used to do, fingers trailing up and down Victor's sides through his shirt. Victor's hands took it upon themselves to get away from Kellin's hair, down his shoulder, tracing the upper part of his arms before rubbing down his shoulder blades slowly, moving always slowly, stealthily, to Kellin's lower back and sides. And then Kellin was pulling back a little, still hovering above Victor, noses rubbing together, eyes fluttering open.

"We need to get up," Kellin whispered, eyes moving over Victor's, hands positioning beside Vic's head. Victor nodded quickly, letting an acknowledging hum before he was quickly leaning up, taking Kellin's lips again. Kellin chuckled but let himself kiss Victor hard for a moment before he was pulling back completely. Victor groaned.

"No," Victor pouted, dragging out the 'o'. Kellin just chuckled.

"Get up, little sloth," Kellin grinned at Victor, slipping his shirt on with a heavy sigh. "We taking a walk in the woods today. Gonna go make coffee."

Kellin could only laugh as he left the bedroom, hearing Victor's protesting grumbles. Kellin sighed softly, the little smile he had playing on his lips easily dissipating away.

He was a mess.

He didn't want to change, couldn't, didn't know how to. But each decision of his, past and present, every single one of them was far too much, far too bad. Every single one of his decisions seemed to be the wrong one and Kellin really couldn't understand why all of them made him spiral down the way he was. Karma, karma must be making me pay. So he kept it to himself, Victor was paying already too much because of him. It was for the best. Keep that thought to yourself, don't think it over.

But, once again, Victor wasn't blind. Kellin's random blank stares, the sudden annoyance or sudden sadness, the sudden look that he always got when he wanted to be anywhere else but there, it was all getting too often. Victor has been dropping out little hints about how he saw it, that he was there but Kellin either didn't get them or he pretended not to get them. In Victor's state, there was only so much he could do, though.

It wasn't exactly helping his mental state, either. He cared too much, loved too much, always put people above himself so watching Kellin sinking faster and faster whilst Victor himself was neck-deep onto that shit made him feel worthless, putting it lightly.

How the hell did they get to that point?

Victor took his sweet time before he got out of the bed with a sigh and a groan, slipping on a shirt. Despite it all, Victor tried to always gaze out at the positive points. Kellin had asked him last night to sleep beside him and, of course, that ended in cuddling throughout the night. Victor could also feel himself getting better; slow, baby steps, better nonetheless. He didn't throw up for a day or so now, his fevers were far lesser, he could keep himself up without his knees failing him. He was recovering.

When Victor got on the kitchen, Kellin had already placed a warm mug on the table, in front of the same chair Victor claimed as his, a sandwich there as well. Kellin was tidying the kitchen up, sneaking some bottles to the trash can. Victor didn't see them.

"I don't know if this is mine," Vic started, sitting down. Kellin jolted up, dropping the bottle onto the trash, quickly turning to Victor with a guilty look but quickly masking it down. "But now it is."

Kellin's lips curled crookedly before he quickly sat down in front of Victor.

"It was mine, actually," Kellin spoke. Victor blinked, taking a sip from the mug.

"Oh, it was?" Victor took the first bite off of the bread. Kellin grinned genuinely. "Shit, man, sorry," Victor spoke with his mouth full. He didn't look sorry at all. Kellin just shook his head with a snort. Then neither spoke for a few moments.

"It's been two weeks already," Kellin murmured, both hands falling to his lap. One os his fingers began twirling the ring he had on the other hand. Victor stopped chewing, seeming thoughtful.

"twelve days, actually," Victor spoke, swallowing it down and sipping from the mug. Kellin raised his eyebrows, blinking. He nodded.

"Same thing," Kellin shrugged, leaning back onto the chair. His eyes seemed to analyse Victor closely, fingers still messing with his ring, pearly white teeth grinding down onto his bottom lip once. He motioned at Victor with his head once.

"Do you... Do you think you're getting better?"

A lazy blink, another sip, another bite. Victor chewed slowly, staring at Kellin with his head tilted. It was early, too early for him to think about their fucked up situation. The same way Kellin studied Victor, Victor studied Kellin back. Then, finally, after Kellin began fiddling with his fingers faster, tongue impatiently moving over the back of his teeth.

"Well, you tell me," Victor sighed, another lazy blink, breaking the eye contact. Kellin's eyebrows twitched.

"Victor, I'm serious here-"

"I can see that," Victor interrupted, finishing his breakfast. Kellin stopped, eyes slowly flickering over Victor's face. His lips pursed, his fingers stopped. Victor took a glance at Kellin and saw that, no, now he wouldn't speak about this anymore.

Good. The last thing Victor wanted to think about first thing in the morning was about recovery and the fact that he had something to recover from.

Victor stood up, going to the sink without another glance at Kellin. But he heard that Kellin didn't get up to leave. Vic wasn't in the mood to talk about that sort of shit.

"We're just taking a walk around the woods or we'll just sit on the porch?" Victor asked.

Sometimes when they got bored they would just go to the porch and sit on the swinging thing, just to spend time. The chirping, the sound of the wind gushing the leaves, the lack of the city noises, these things healed the soul and mind. It was a few before Kellin answered.

"I think a small walk would do us some good. We don't have to go as far as the lake but we need to stretch our legs a little."

Victor hummed, setting the dishes to dry.

"I don't wanna walk, to be honest," Victor murmured with a sigh, turning to rest his lower back against the sink. Kellin was staring at him already.

"Well... You don't have an option."

Victor's lips curled. He scoffed.

"Of course I don't," Victor smirked in a sarcastically amused grin. Kellin shrugged innocently.

"Sorry," he wasn't. "Now go get ready."

Kellin got out before Vic could reply that, 'hey, I'm an adult, I don't have to do this'. But Victor would comply anyways. Today was a day where he could see the good, and when he saw the good, it made him want to fight. So he would try.

He didn't dress up much, he just got on some shorts and a light shirt along with the sneakers, Kellin using the same. It was a warm day but not insufferable hot. It was just perfect.

Half an hour later and Kellin was locking the door, Victor taking an almost eager look around. He really loved nature.

"Which way we're going?" Kellin asked Victor, putting the keys on his pocket, stopping beside Vic. His eyes went left and right before Victor pointed to the left.

Kellin nodded, grasping Victor's hand and lacing their fingers together mindlessly before tugging Victor along. So they went, hand in hand, the wind whistling along, swirling around them and rushing the leaves, fallen sticks cracking under their feet.

Victor never felt lighter. His chest had, for once, relaxed from all the pressure it held, every breath didn't seem to hold the world for once, his head was blank. It was so good. Victor inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering. Kellin wasn't much different beside him, although his head wasn't as quiet.

He needed to stop, Victor had almost caught him last night. He didn't want to let Victor down again, especially not because of this. Besides, getting drunk didn't seem to make things better anymore. Sure, his intoxicated moments were the best; always loose, careless, on top of the world, but the aftermath was the worse because not only did he have to feel like shit but there was the guilt to pile up. The fact that he was lying and hiding things from Victor, especially with what Vic was going through, it tasted even shittier because Victor had forgiven him and given him a second chance.

But it was hard to stop.

His eyes slowly flickered to Victor and his adorable little grin, the calmness he seemed to finally carry within himself, even if only for a few minutes.

He would stop it.

Really. He _would_.

Victor let out a little sigh, their hands swinging, barely. They had gotten far enough, walking for ten minutes or so. But then a stick breaking noise came from the left and their heads tilted towards it just to see a wobbly little deer struggling to step forward. Vic let out the tiniest gasp. They came to a halt, watching it trying to go up to the same way they were going and from out of the bushes came a bigger deer, twice the size of the little one, watching them. They didn't do much but stare, the three of them, aside from the little deer who glanced at them from time to time but focused more on walking.

The little one wobbled up, stumbling here and there. The big one, probably the mother, upon realising their stillness, went up to the fallen kid and helped it up with its snout. A few more stumbles later and they were out of sight again, though they could still hear the animals walking. Finally, once things became silent again, Victor turned to Kellin, eyes twinkling ever so softly.

"They were so cute," Victor whispered in awe, directing that amazement towards Kellin. His lips curled at Kellin's nod.

"They were," Kellin squeezed his hand. "You think it's time to go back already?"

Victor nodded.

~•°•~•°•~•°•~•°•~

Victor needed distractions. Reading wasn't enough, television wasn't enough, staying outside wasn't enough. So he decided, as Kellin stocked the fridge again, that he would pick back up on his baking habits. It's been a while since he last did so, so now it was time to pick it back up.

Walking made Victor feel significantly better. He knew, though, that sooner or later his mind would become foggy again so he tried to go and find something to keep his mind clear. Two hours later or so, then, he was getting the little apron and tying it around his waist, getting everything so he could make a simple cake. It had been a while since he last cooked that one childhood recipe of his mom.

So he went around, blending stuff then putting somewhere else and stirring and Victor forgot just how nice it was to bake. Kellin was nowhere to be seen but Victor didn't mind, he enjoyed cooking by himself because then he could sing completely out of tune if he wanted to.

And then he found this one lost package of flour behind the others and he looked at the validity date and oh, February? Oh no, it's May already... So Victor did what any other person would do and went to throw the flour off. It would have been just another moment had not Vic's eyes flickered over the trash.

Bottles and bottles piled up. So much wine. Victor could count at least five, barely hidden under their morning waste and he also could see that there were more under.

As if on cue, Kellin opened the door.

"Hey, I was thinking about-"

And Kellin had to interrupt himself, watching with certain confusion as Victor stared at the trash unmoving. Then his mind made the connection and then his heart began pumping faster, his breath hitching, throat tightening. Victor dropped the flour slowly inside, taking his feet off so the lid would close. The longer Victor stood there, still staring, the harsher Kellin began to panic.

Victor shifted slowly so he could look at Kellin. Stunned. Disappointed, hurt, maybe. Angry, definitely. And it came, all the same, a matter of seconds, though the silence stretched for longer. Victor's face finally settled on a frown, eyes going dull.

Please say something, please please please.

A slow exhale and Victor was swallowing hard, lips tight. Vic took a glance around, at his previous doings and then he just breathed in slowly, looking at Kellin again, miserably. Victor shook his head a little, quickly looking away. He couldn't even keep eye-contact with Kellin.

Surely, there was an explanation. Surely, it's not as bad as it looks. Surely. Victor let out a weak scoff that was more just a harsh exhale through his nose. Still keeping his eyes on the ground, Victor quickly walked out, hurrying past Kellin.

"You- you don't get to be mad," Kellin's voice cracked and faltered as he spoke but he still did and he was instantly regretting it because he didn't even mean it but, fuck's sake please just say something. Victor stopped, nearing the stairs. A deep breath, a hard swallow before he turned to face Kellin.

It was a surprise to see Victor's glistening eyes. Finally, after trailing his gaze over the room, he looked at Kellin again. It hurt. Victor pursed his lips before shrugging them and relaxing them. Victor blinked once, twice, rubbed his eye with his fist, with the same hand he scratched his scalp quickly. A slow sigh before Victor shrugged.

"I'm not mad," Victor swallowed, nodding quickly, eyes beginning to turn red-rimmed. But his gaze now was strong, boring straight through Kellin's. Then he shook his head, his stare falling to Kellin's chest.

"I'm..." But there were no words. There was a vague ache on his chest, his thoughts were going too fast for him to understand what even was happening. He needed to process this. So Victor left the phrase buzzing in the air, mouth dry, ears ringing. Another deep breath. He shrugged and nodded at Kellin, turning around and leaving Kellin's sight. Leaving him alone. Kellin didn't want to be alone. Victor needed to be alone.

So, alone he was. In the room that he was so certain he wouldn't have to be anymore ever since Kellin asked him to stay with him, blending onto the background as a sock on the ground would be on one's messy room. Unimportant and unnoticed. And there he stood, alone in a room for minutes, hours, who knows.

It was hard to keep a single train of thought. Victor's head was running far too wildly for him to grasp it, escaping through his fingertips quicker as the seconds passed and the silence suffocated and as his heartbeat played in the background of his morbid thoughts. Victor was barely conscious at this point. Sitting back on the bed, back against the wall, hands on his lap, legs dropped thoughtlessly.

He had no idea how he was supposed to react. Kellin was an adult. He had his choices, that wasn't any of Victor's business. The same way Victor getting high and whatnot weren't of Kellin's business.

This entire thing was bullshit. Why couldn't Victor just get high? Why couldn't he feed his addictions? Because it would kill him? Oh, fuck's sake, that's what he wanted at his point. This is all bullshit. Had he been at home, with a needle in hand, his mind wouldn't be as wild and painful and his head wouldn't be as heavy and his soul would have been in a peaceful state and not as tormented as it was. Victor could have easily been at the top of the end of the world at that exact moment instead of falling as harshly as he was falling.

Too much, too much, too much, everything was too much and Victor was fed up as hell because he didn't want to feel that way anymore, didn't want to choke on his own fears and thoughts and anxieties and he didn't want to feel anymore because this all was too fucking much and yet Victor did nothing to change jackshit. So he let his head tumble back, breathing in, hating just how empty yet full his head seemed but this was out of Victor's control by this point.

It took him moments to realise the tears streaming down his cheeks. His bottom lip was quivering slightly but his expression was exhausted. The sun was setting, the very few last sun rays were the only thing illuminating his room through the window and Victor was struggling to keep things light as the sun did. But caving in and letting the pain do him in was already his only option despite how he tried to claw his way up.

A soft knock on the door was barely able to bring him back. But his visitor didn't wait for an answer, he just opened with that same stupid puppy eyes and apologetic face. Stupid man.

"Darling?" Kellin called softly, his gaze finally falling on Victor. He didn't bother to move a single muscle. Kellin's face fell even more.

"Hey," Kellin whispered, leaving the door ajar behind him as he took the few steps closer to the bed. He sat beside Vic's legs, his own staying firmly on the ground though Kellin was anything but firm at that moment. Kellin placed his hand on Victor's thigh, swallowing hard.

"Darling," Kellin said weakly, sighing out slowly. The edge of Victor's lips twitched down.

"Why are we doing this?" Vic murmured dully, lips unmoving as he did so. His eyes were now trained on Kellin's, open and honest and ready to pour everything because Victor was boiling already and it was scalding and it hurt.

"Doing... This?" Kellin frowned, looking carefully at Victor.

"Yeah," Victor exhaled softly. "This. Why? Just- this is tiring," a breathless, weak, agonised chuckle. "Fuck, it's exhausting." He barely moved his head from side to side before his eyes slipped shut, more drops sliding down his face unpatterned.

"I don't wanna do this anymore."

Kellin's heart ached at the way Victor's voice broke, his breath weakening far too easily. He started shaking his head a little but Victor was yet to open his eyes.

"Hey, don't- don't talk like this," Kellin's voice was gentle as he moved to be against the wall beside Victor, whose eyes remained tightly shut. Kellin slowly pulled Victor onto his embrace, breath hitched, heart thumping painfully. "It'll be oka-"

"But it won't," Victor let out a bittersweet cackle, face falling onto Kellin's neck. "It won't be okay."

"Victor..." Speechless. Victor had never been the hopeless and pessimistic one and Kellin's throat was tight because this was the last thing he wanted to see. Instead of saying more for now, Kellin only wrapped his arms tightly around Victor, resting his chin atop Vic's head.

Victor shook his head, barely, a choked hiccup rumbling his throat. The bare effort was painful but he still brought his weak arms up to circle Kellin. He didn't want comfort. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to be weak, didn't want to be strong. Victor just wanted to stop feeling as suffocated as he felt, just wanted to be able to walk like everyone else without tripping over every two steps.

"I just..." Vic sniffed. "I don't want this anymore, I just-" A choked hiccup. "Wish I was..." The lump on his throat grew enough to make him hiccup and bury his face harder on the crook of Kellin's neck, arms going weaker.

"Somewhere else?" Kellin asked quickly, a large edge of desperation on his voice. "Home? That's what you mean, right? You wish you were on a beach or something? Right, Victor??"

Though, much to Kellin' dismay, Victor began shaking his head for a few seconds, taking stuttering breaths.

"I- I just- I don't..." Victor started mumbling after that but his words were so mushed together and then Vic was letting out sobs and hiccups so Kellin just couldn't understand a single thing. Kellin shifted, tightening his arms around Victor and inhaling shakily.

"We don't have to be anywhere," Kellin spoke a little too high-pitched, a little too upbeat. "Yeah? We don't- we don't have to exist to the world, we can just... Just be!"

Victor took a deep, stuttered breath, still hiccuping a little as he rubbed his eyes before he was pulling back and looking up at Kellin.

"What?" Vic croaked, sniffing the little snout back inside.

"Yeah, we don't- we don't _need_ to be real all the time," Kellin smiled desperately at Victor, his breath uneven. Thousands of ends for Victor's sentence had to keep dripping off over Kellin's ears, finalisations that had never left Victor's lips, some that hadn't even crossed his mind but all of them and more grew over Kellin's brain and eyes and ears and the more they came, the worse his desperation grew.

Victor breathed in slowly, vision dizzy and head edging a pounding. A few leftovers hiccups left his lips, his miserable stare on Kellin. His bottom lip wasn't quivering anymore but now his face was completely flushed and his eyes were reddened, glistening still. A sniff before Victor swallowed.

"How?" Victor asked weakly. Kellin straightened himself, fingertips twitching atop Vic's covers, feeling the fabric as if it held all the answers. It didn't, and now Kellin had to find them himself in a matter of seconds.

"I don't- I don't know, we can just... Sit back and forget, we can talk and pretend, we can..." Kellin shrugged anxiously, swallowing the sickness coming up his throat. "We can play some music, or we can just disassociate. I don't... I don't know."

Victor took a deep breath, his hiccups dying down as he rubbed his eyes again. Kellin shifted so he was back against the wall where Vic previously was, Victor between his legs. Vic moved a bit so Kellin would be comfortable, curling onto himself but placing his head on Kellin's chest, lacing his arms around his middle. Vic took a deep breath.

"We need to solve this," Victor mumbled, breathing out slowly. "What we're doing- it's not working."

And yeah, Victor seemed to be breaking and seemed so weak and fragile and Kellin had no ground either but he'll be damned if he didn't recognise that Victor was still giving the little bit he had left into them. Kellin had to do more than the bare minimum.

"Okay," Kellin murmured, reluctantly, wrapping one arm around Victor whilst the other threaded softly through Vic's hair.

Victor sniffed, blinking softly, lashes still wet. He was tired, more than before and, fuck, he didn't feel any better.

"Don't you want to take a nap first?" Kellin used his finger to gently brush Victor's hair out of his forehead, thumb tracing down Victor's cheek, rubbing the wetness away. Vic shifted so he looked up at Kellin, eyes miserable in a way that Kellin never wished to see ever again. Victor sniffed again, shrugging weakly. Kellin sighed slowly, nodding.

Kellin moved around to lay Victor down on the pillow, bringing the covers up to Vic's neck before Kellin was laying down beside him, easily wrapping his arms back around Victor. He placed a kiss atop Vic's head before he started petting Victor's hair, resting his lips against Vic's forehead.

He wasn't shattered. Victor wasn't shattered. He wasn't, he couldn't be, Kellin couldn't have shattered Victor.

Kellin breathed out slowly, eyes squeezing shut.

It kept getting harder and harder to convince himself. It didn't make things easier, it didn't make him feel better because the self-betrayal spoke louder than the whispered assurances, that were nonsensical by now.

Treat him as he deserves to be treated. Treat him like a king, treat him well, take care of him because shattered glass never looks the same once glued back together and Kellin couldn't stand looking at the reminders of the broken mirror that got wrecked purely because Kellin despised his own reflection. It shouldn't be so hard, why was it so hard?

Victor's hair was still as luscious as it always had been, though Kellin couldn't ignore the way that far too many of the strands came out of Victor's head too easily even to the weakest weave. And once again was Kellin reminded of the fact that actions had consequences and, of course, once again was his chest left aching ever so unbearably.

Life was far too much like a chess game. Kellin played blindly, making all the wrong moves that he believed were the right ones but now his vision started becoming clear once again and now he could see that all he was left with was very few pieces and his king was at risk. Though, unlike a chess game, things weren't as black and white. Life was colourful and could easily variate between a strong red to a dark blue but Kellin had a monochromatic vision of everything. The right was wrong, the wrong was wrong, the option to skip was wrong. So Kellin wrongfully decided that seeing nothing at all was better than seeing all grey but, fuck, being in the dark hurt far more.

A stolen kiss, though, was always the right option. So his numb heart went ahead and began pumping once again as the feeling of Victor's chapped lips pressed ever so softly against his breastbone, wet fluttery lashes brushing gently over Kellin's skin. The clench Kellin's heart gave neared the pained edge, but Victor's breath evening out kept him sane amidst the insanity of his faded fire.

Staying still, surrounded by silence as the clock ticked by would have been beyond boring had it been any other moment. But it wasn't any other moment. Kellin's arms tightened around Victor, lips puckering up against Vic's forehead, entire being relaxing, finally, as his eyes fluttered open. Victor's soft breaths were the most lulling thing Kellin had heard and felt for too long.

Kellin didn't know how to feel. He kept making excuses but, hell, could he even win? Fighting against the water's flow was too much struggle. To hold on tight when sliding down the waterfall was far easier. He would go under either way so what was he even fighting for?

The bundle in his arms shuffled around a little almost grounding. Kellin's eyes fluttered.

Victor. Alright. Sure. Fair.

His eyes fluttered again. Kellin shuffled back, slowly taking his arms off of Victor, sliding away from him and out of the bed. He stared. His hand reached up to brush Victor's hair out of his face, placing it behind his ear. Kellin watched apologetic, almost. Victor's lips were parted as soft breaths left his mouth, eyes sealed shut almost religiously. Even then he didn't seem peaceful. Even when he was unconscious he seemed bothered. Kellin wondered just what was displayed behind Victor's eyelids, memories or paranoias? What was he dreaming of? And why was Kellin the reason why Victor was bothered?

A sharp breath before Kellin was sliding off the bed and getting out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Leaving before Victor could even realise. Ironic.

He didn't do much after that but he did stop to analyse every aspect of his life. From his parents to his relationship with Victor, his workplace and everything else. Over how he's just a wandering piece of meat who can think and has beliefs. And that, after all, that's everything he'll ever be. He won't last forever. Kellin didn't believe in reincarnation, you only live once. He's not immortal. The clock ticked by and the closer to death he got and soon enough he'll be just another fertiliser for the ground people will walk over. And that will be it. Over. Just like that. Forgotten. A rotting corpse.

He was wasting precious time over this. When he and Victor could be making the most out of this vacation, there he was, finding yet another way to ruin Victor's fragmented sanity. He just wanted the best for Victor. He just wanted Victor to be okay. _He_ just wanted to be okay. And it's hard. Keeping your head above the water is insanely hard, but, fucking hell, being under is harder. Your lungs are giving out, filled with water and your instincts to fight and stay alive kick in but no matter how much you struggle you only sink further so you shake your limbs desperately trying to surface but the air leave you completely and the world starts to get too far up.

That's it for you. That's it for Kellin, that's it for Victor. That's it. The deadline.

But Kellin was still keeping his head up, he still had air on his lungs. He could still breathe. He also could see that Victor couldn't. He was sinking and Kellin could see that he was fighting.

He was done watching from the sidelines. A 'get better soon' wouldn't do jackshit. Kellin needed to be there, fully, and if that meant that he would have to get a whiplash then so be it.

A slow sigh left Kellin's lips, hands moving the spoon over his coffee slowly, the steam barely visible but the warmth over his hand let him know it was still too hot to drink. No more sun streams were shining through the window, the sky seemed to darken in almost a blink.

Why did things have to be so complicated?

"Why'd you leave?"

Kellin looked up, seeing Victor by the doorway, pants dragging over the floor with every step he took, rubbing his eye with his fist. The corner of Kellin's lips twitched.

"You were kicking me off the bed," Kellin began blowing on his mug, blinking slowly. Victor stopped, hand dropping to his side.

"I was?" Vic moved to stand beside Kellin, mimicking him by resting his lower back against the counter. Kellin took the smallest sip.

"No," Kellin brought the mug down, looking at Victor with some sort of amusement, or something close to it. Victor blinked, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head.

"What?"

Kellin shrugged, placing the mug on the counter, turning to look at Victor with a sort of ease stare. Soft, definitely soft. Vic scrunched his nose. He sighed.

"Whatever. I need food."

Victor went to grab something on the fridge whilst Kellin remained on the same spot, just staring. Victor was oblivious to it for the most part until he turned around, apple in hand. Victor raised his eyebrows.

"What?" He took a bite, sitting down on the table and staring at Kellin back while chewing.

It was so hard to breathe. He stared, chest tight, throat closed. A swallow, breathe in slowly, exhale slower. Kellin grabbed his coffee and sat in front of Victor. Victor was watching him almost concerned.

"I... I won't drink anymore," Kellin's fingers curled at the edge of the table, face decided yet his voice wavered. He was sure, though. Victor blinked. "I don't... I don't want to hurt you anymore."

Victor's chews had slowed until he stopped, leaning back on the chair. Then, he swallowed, looking Kellin over carefully.

"Well..." Victor spoke confusedly but somewhat delighted. "I'm... I'm proud of you," is what he settled for, tilting his head. Kellin was looking away so he could take a deep breath.

"Can- can you do the same?" Kellin took a sip from his coffee, not really looking back at Victor. He did hear him exhaling slowly.

A few moments passed by and Kellin was suffocating in the silence that Victor made. He finally allowed himself to look back at Victor. His head was tilted back and his eyes were shut, lips barely parted. Victor took a deep breath before he straightened himself, opening his eyes.

"Sure," Victor sighed, getting his food again. Kellin licked his lips, nodding.

"Alright. Thank you."

Victor just shrugged. They went silent again, Kellin's gaze flickering around and onto Victor repeatedly whilst Victor just munched on his food, pretending to be oblivious to Kellin's eyes. And then Victor was finishing, Kellin's cup half full. Victor got up silently, Kellin's fingers tightening around the cup even harder.

"I'm-" Kellin blurted out suddenly, inhaling audibly. Victor froze, looking up at him. "I'm- I'm sorry, okay?"

Victor blinked, slowly sitting down again, staring at Kellin curiously. "You're- you're sorry? For what exactly?"

Kellin bit his bottom lip, gulping nervously, finger tapping the mug he held.

"Honestly?" Kellin breathed out shakily. "Everything. I- I... I fucked you over," Kellin nodded. The lump that previously had materialised on his throat seemed to plug off, the words tripping on his tongue quicker than his brain could recognise them. "I fucked you too much, not even in the good sense."

Kellin's eyes had trailed down to his cup, their colour became slight darker in sorrow and guilt. He didn't even laugh at his joke, which was unusual.

"I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, I hate myself for hurting you." Kellin's words were so dry, Victor could see just how much Kellin meant it. "I tried everything-" Kellin tilted his head almost in a spell, seeming to waver off reality momentarily. "-To take care of you. I watched every step of mine to make sure I wouldn't start drinking, watched every step to make sure I wouldn't trap you to myself only, I did everything to make sure I wouldn't become... I wouldn't become abusive too."

Kellin's stare slowly flickered up, confirming the surprise in Victor's face. The edge of Kellin's lips curled loosely, too distasteful. Victor finally blinked, hesitantly shuffling forward on the chair.

"Too?" Victor asked with full hesitance, looking at Kellin alarmed. He looked away, biting his tongue, nodding at Vic. But then he shook his head, looking down at his bare reflection on the coffee.

"I didn't want to hurt you but... I didn't want them to know," Kellin nodded at himself. "I didn't want my parents to know, I was terrified. Still am, but they haven't tried to contact me. That's- that's not my point." Kellin exhaled, scratching his scalp before he sighed. He was already done with that conversation. "My point is," Kellin directed his eyes towards Victor again. "People are ruthless. I've seen what they do with people- people like us. Back in high school, they'd- they'd make your life a living hell. My parents' friends talked about people like us as if we were less than garbage. Fuck, they literally joked about... About making genocides with LGBT people. In school, home, even at work." Kellin began shaking his head, shutting his eyes.

"I didn't belong anywhere, Victor. _We_ don't belong anywhere."

Kellin scoffed to himself, dragging one hand harshly over his face. He looked up when Victor grasped his hand that was holding the mug.

"We do, though," Victor spoke softly. "We belong here. In this world, no matter what everyone else says. And..." Vic's hand curled over Kellin's, making him let go of the mug to hold Victor's hand as well. "You belong here too. With me." Victor squeezed his hand softly, looking so sincere that Kellin couldn't help how his eyes started glistening. "You're supposed to be here, and so are all of us."

The way Victor held his hand so certainly, his eyes even more firm, words so grounding and truthful in a way that Kellin had never heard before, not from him, not from anyone else. Kellin's vision was blurry.

"You belong here, Kellin," Victor said once more, letting go of Kellin's hand to reach up, cupping his cheek and rubbing the stray tear sliding down Kellin's skin so gently that even more seemed to spill, too far from Kellin's control.

Victor flinched when Kellin got up so harshly, so suddenly, hand quickly retreating, all the air leaving his lungs when Kellin quite literally crashed their lips together, teeth knocking loudly. Kellin seemed careless to the surprised noise Victor let out, using his tongue to part Victor's lips. Vic had to lean back, clutching tightly onto the chair he was in, scared to fall despite how firmly Kellin held his head.

It was a mess. Tongues slithering together, spit everywhere, teeth clashing a little too much, not enough air for either of them. Then, eventually, the kiss became slower, especially when Victor felt Kellin's tears drip down on his cheeks. There was less tongue, their teeth weren't colliding anymore, they could breathe. Kellin slowly stopped moving, although he kept his mouth over Victor's. He pulled back, barely, their eyes fluttering open.

"I love you," Kellin blurted out, mindless to his wet lashes. Victor blinked, glistening lips parting even more. "I love you so much." Kellin shook his head, still staring at every part of Victor's face, a little ashamed of the drops on Victor's cheeks. Kellin reached up to rub them off with a bite on his bottom lip.

Victor's eyes were twinkling. He slowly placed his hands atop Kellin's on his cheeks, turning his head a little to lay a kiss on Kellin's palm.

"I love you too," Victor said softly.

Kellin sniffed, nodding before he leaned down again, pecking Victor's lips over and over, gently rubbing his cheek whilst Vic cradled his hands.

We belong here. We always did, we always will.


	7. Never Enough

Victor shut the trunk with a soft thud and a slow inhale.

It had been almost a month or so of them on the cottage and they could have easily been, despite all, the best month of Victor's life. Kellin had worked on himself, he was far more open with Victor now. Although he still struggled with opening up, he still tried and it seemed to get better every time Victor encouraged Kellin. It's undeniable that Victor had doubted the changes, at first. The close-to-manipulative cycle they were stuck on went for far too long and it was odd the thought of breaking it, which led Victor to question just how unhealthy their relationship used to be.

Victor improved, too. Upon noticing Kellin's mannerisms that once would have gone by silently due to ignorance's bliss, Victor learned to speak up about it; it was, after all, one of the guides for Kellin's improving. Pointing out what was in the wrong so Kellin could repair it instead of letting the man guess by himself, of course it would be helpful. Victor somehow seemed a little less soft. No, of course he was still as gentle as ever, still as loving and stuff, but he didn't seem like he would break his back bending to Kellin's every wish anymore; and yes, that was a huge thing.

Maybe it was the distrust. Maybe it was the self-preservation. Because even after all the time they spent together, healing together, helping each other, Kellin was yet to prove to Victor a real change over what used to hurt them — Victor hoped, prayed that "used to" was worded rightfully.

But that was something Victor chose to ignore. It wasn't a priority, at least not when he was getting through his withdrawals.

Withdrawals. Never had Victor in his entire life expected to go through that. Of course, he would get the occasional weed and fun stuff but he never saw himself going farther than that. It was disappointing, at least. Shameful, he wasn't supposed to get that bad, not even on the quietest nights of his life. So he managed to turn that shame into disgust, promising himself to not even dream of getting near drugs ever again. He knew it wasn't that simple, he was sure of it, but he would try his best because, in the end, that's what matters.

"I'm gonna miss it here," Victor murmured, biting his bottom lip, drumming his fingers a few times on top of the car before he sighed, taking a look around.

"We can come back here whenever," Kellin stopped beside Vic, rubbing his back a little before he was taking his time to look around too. Kellin's hand dropped beside him before he was looking at Vic, which made Victor do the same.

Victor nodded, straightening up.

"Alright. Let's go home."

Kellin nodded, placing a small kiss on top of Victor's forehead before they both got into the car.

~•°•~•°•~•°•~•°•~

Victor hadn't realised just how much he missed his brother until then. To see that fucker's face light up over how Victor looked like Victor once again when Mike had started to lose hope was the best yet saddest thing. And Mike was strong, which explained why Victor was being crushed to death, drawing quick breaths because breathing is hard when your ribcage is compressed. Victor patted Mike's arm.

"Okay, you can- can let go now," Victor struggled to breathe out, taking a huge breath once Mike let go of him. A small cough left Victor, making him wrinkle his nose.

"You seem so much better," Michael exhaled in a chuckle, grasping Victor's shoulders. Victor grinned back.

"I am, I guess," Vic nodded. Then before he could blink, his head was flung to the side and there was a light sting on his face. Did Michael really just... Fucking slapped him?

"Don't you _ever_ dare to make me go through that again," Mike whispered harshly before hugging Victor one last time, pushing him away. "You made me lie to mom and dad, you owe me forever."

Vic rolled his eyes, rubbing his face with a grumble but nodding anyway. Heaven knows what would his parents do to him if they found out he got addicted. His mom would set him on fire and his dad would rant for fucking ever before also setting him on fire. Like a double kill but reversed.

"I still wanna punch you," Mike said, making Victor look up. He wasn't directing himself to Vic, but to Kellin, who was behind him. "But thank you."

"Comforting," Kellin muttered under his breath, stepping up to place his hand on Victor's lower back. "You're welcome."

Mike rolled his eyes and Victor let out a slow sigh.

It was the end of a chapter. Things had settled down somehow. There were stitches littered all over the story but it was better than oozing wounds, although there were bleeding pages that Victor could only mourn over because he knew they would never be the same; unreadable and sorrowful, destined to fade away with time even though the stains would remain forever. Forgive but never forget. And it's not like that chapter was meaningless to Victor — It was possibly, most likely the climax to Victor's story, the unforgettable part that would stick alongside the reader anytime they thought of his story, the bad and the sad because the happy never really stick along.

It was unfortunate. Victor would like to say that only those lost pages were stained but it swept through and now the whole book had a melancholic undertone. Moody lines, hopeless paragraphs, a meaningless plot. Just how worthy was it to read that story? To live through it? A slow breath, a quiver of his lips and Victor was pushing it all away.

Sad how Victor had to remind himself that quitting wasn't an option. That an early grave wasn't a viable way. Never was, never will be. But, after all, wasn't it all pointless? His memory wouldn't stick for too long. A deathbed was the dead-end. Two, maybe three if he was lucky, generations later before Victor Fuentes would become just another nameless ghost, another percentage, yet another forgotten life on the billion, trillion scale.

Enough.

It was a good day. No time for this.

"Vic?" Kellin called softly, squeezing Victor's waist a little bit.

"Huh?" Victor looked at Kellin before he glanced at Mike, who didn't look as happy as he was seconds ago. Dubious, the sceptical look on his eyes said whilst the frown on his brows said concerned. "Sorry, I zoned out. What is it?"

And Victor decided to chirp, glancing back and forth between his brother and maybe-boyfriend, maybe only ex, maybe a soon to be stranger — hell knows where those two stood on now. Mike seemed even more sceptical for a moment before he let it slide, whilst Kellin just went silent.

"You'll be staying with me for a while, right?" Michael spoke, crossing his arms with a small beam. Victor blinked.

"I will?"

"Well, yeah," Mike tilted his head. "This is your house after all," Michael quirked both his eyebrows and leaned forward, a 'duh' expression on his face.

"Oh yeah," Victor mumbled to himself, taking a glance at Kellin. He seemed disappointed but understanding, sort of. "Or I- I mean, I could stay with, I don't know, Kellin? If it's not too much, of course."

Another glance and Victor could see that Kellin was more joyous now, whilst Mike seemed displeased as hell.

"And get even more attached to him?" Michael scoffed. "Y'all spent a whole month by yourselves, a little distance would do you good."

"Or Vic could just stay with me," Kellin said right after, arm tightening around Vic.

"So he'll straight up kill himself when you fuck up again? Yeah no, I don't think so," Mike snorted with a dirty look on his face, enough to make Kellin uncomfortable.

"Michael, fucking hell! Don't say shit like that, for fuck's sake!" Victor sent a dirtier glare on Mike's direction. Michael's glare broke when he laughed in disbelief, looking at Victor with amusement and resentment.

"Because drugs are harmless and not a form of self-destruction," Mike smiled sweetly. Victor went silent, eyes casting away from Michael, gritting his teeth tightly.

"It- It doesn't... One thing is not connected to another," Victor said, so desperately trying to spare Kellin. Though, they all could see straight through Victor's mumbles.

"U-uhm," Kellin furrowed his eyebrows, holding Vic a little tighter. "I think... Mike's right. Just for a week or something, darling."

Victor turned to look at Kellin with a surprised face. Kellin seemed so apologetic once Vic's face turned unhappy, but Mike was right, whether he liked it or not. Victor nodded a bit with an unconscious pout.

Kellin leaned in, pressing his lips firmly on Vic's temple, giving his side a soft squeeze.

"Just a week, baby. Please take care of yourself," Kellin whispered against Victor's skin, kissing his temple again. Vic nodded a bit, glancing up at Kellin with these doe eyes that made Kellin grin a little.

"Take care you too."

"I will."

Victor nodded again, and Kellin smiled a little one more time before kissing Victor's head one more time. Victor watched with an increasing pout as Kellin got into the car and left, waiting until he was out of sight to turn to Mike with a 'now what' look on his face. Michael stared at him back for a few seconds before sighing and uncrossing his arms.

"You're a fucking puppy, I swear."

Victor rolled his eyes but followed Michael back inside his house with a sigh.

"I need to adult," Vic mumbled, falling on the couch beside his brother.

"That you do," Mike nodded, changing the channel on the TV. "But what are you talking about?"

Victor scrunched his face again.

"I need to find a job again."

Michael glanced at Vic curiously for a second before his face turned neutral. Victor obviously had lost his last one after the break-up. Needless to say why.

"Good luck."

Victor groaned. Well, at least now he knew what to do this week.

~•°•~•°•~•°•~•°•~

Victor didn't have to find another job, after all. Forming a bond with his old boss was a huge plus. Lynn wasn't so mad when Victor ashamedly explained what happened, she was sympathetic to him, which helped him a bit. Though in those months, she had already hired someone else on his spot, she was able to break a bone and get him a different place. He would get less but it was something already. He would be forever grateful for her.

Besides that, there wasn't much that happened that week. He contacted his parents, got a huge earful over how he needs to communicate more with them instead of leaving them in the dark. He apologised, then his mom made him tell how the "vacation" went. Of course, he kept out the bad parts, which Mike then complained that he would have to tell them eventually. Victor disagreed.

Kellin called him every other day to check upon him. It was reassuring enough, despite how doubt loomed over every Kellin-related thought of Victor's.

He couldn't be blamed, could he?

But. It was sweet enough to keep Victor's small little faith-spark on. With Kellin's questions about his day and them both sharing and listening and his little 'I love you, take care' at the end, who sounded so genuine and compassionated. It kept Victor strong enough.

Victor didn't want to admit but Michael was right, after all. Victor was still attached to Kellin but Victor could see that not as much as before. Not unhealthily anymore. He could stand for himself, although it would be pretty appreciated if he didn't end up alone.

The future has always been uncertain but the fog hovering over Vic's paths was far too blinding. He couldn't even find himself.

But it was alright. Victor didn't have a real breakdown for a while now, even if things were heavy. Confusing too, but mainly just... Exhaustive. He could deal with it, it was alright.

He could deal.

"Darling?"

Victor blinked, glancing at Kellin's hand on his shoulder before looking back at his face, then at the road.

"Hm?"

Kellin retreated his hand onto the wheel, concerned gaze flickering between the road and Victor.

"Are you alright?"

Victor wrinkled his nose, eyes jumping between blurry shadows passing by.

"Of course," Vic interviewed his fingers together, placing his hands between his thighs. "Just thinking a bit."

"About what?" Kellin asked almost eagerly. Victor sighed, eyes flickering to the radio before they stopped at Kellin's face. Studying, thinking, remembering. Memorizing the light and concerned frown, the shrug of his lips, the expressive look he had in his eyes. The edge of Victor's lip curled, barely.

"Not much," Victor mumbled, rubbing his palm with his thumb. "Just- the future, sort of. I'm not sure what happens now."

The curvature of Kellin's eyebrows softened.

"Yeah," a small nod. "Then again, no one's really sure. But," Kellin reached out for Victor's hand, eyes on the road. "I'll be there with you."

Victor swallowed, nodding a little. You won't be alone. It was almost as if Kellin knew exactly what Victor was thinking.

But the what-if's still loomed. Maybe not as much as before but they still did. What if you get tired of me? What if you realise you're better off without me? What if I get too much to you? What if-

Victor blinked away.

"Thanks." Victor placed his hand atop Kellin's. He forced himself to receive the comfort. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it sounded, it was nice.

But what if. One can only break so many promises before their words become that; mere words.

Breathe in, breathe out. Enough.

Victor turned the radio on, focusing so hard onto the song that came up in hopes that his mind would quiet down. And it did, it worked. Victor managed to ground himself just enough until they reached Kellin's apartment. But being side by side with Kellin in that elevator once again was... Painful. His mind could always replay their end with extreme perfection but being there again was different. Kellin's voice seemed to echo back and around, all throughout every corner of his mind, but this time it wasn't a distant thing. It wasn't a dream anymore, it wasn't a faded two-dimensional daze anymore. It was real. It was there. It happened and the remaining wounds that Victor subconsciously sewed shut were there again, gaping, bloody, raw.

You should leave. I can't be this fucking monster you've made of me. I can't be dating a faggot. Just go. _Just go._

Victor's eyes traced the place the doors met. They never seemed to touch. Maybe, from a different perspective, they were one. Maybe they met each other every time they shut down, and together they stood until someone, something forced them apart. But not anymore. Not from Victor's perspective. From where he saw, the K door held the V door at arm's length. Always holding far from it, never letting the V door get its closure. Never allowing them to become one, always keeping them distinct. But maybe this is how everything's meant to be. Maybe those doors aren't supposed to touch, to become the same.

Maybe they're just not meant to be.

The doors slid open. Victor blinked, grasping his bag tighter. Maybe. Victor stepped out of the elevator, Kellin following suit. Kellin was oddly quiet, and one look at his face would let you see the guilt-wrenching puppy eyes he was making occasionally at Victor. But Vic couldn't bring himself to look at Kellin's face, much less his eyes.

It was a mess. They were a mess.

Kellin unlocked the door a little too slowly, his eyes unable to leave Victor, his expression so cautiously and remorseful, so ashamed. Victor kept his face as blank as possible, his eyes jumping from spot to spot quickly, jaw clenched. He could see Kellin staring at him from the corner of his eyes. He could see. Victor stared forward. And it was awkward and heavy and quiet.

Maybe he shouldn't have come back.

The door slid open, and Kellin let Victor step in first. Only he hesitated awfully long. His gaze dragging onto every corner of that memory-infested place. Memories of dancing, of laughter, of crying, memories of peace, memories of war. Memories that hung him by the neck with a sneaky hold that tightened by every passing second. His stomach tightened alongside his throat, eyes twinkling a little duller with the damage.

All he could think of was how he wasn't supposed to be there.

Victor's eyes slid to the ground, shoulders visibly tense as he got in. Vic couldn't breathe right. But he still inhaled deeply and silently, purposefully keeping his eyes far away from Kellin. The sound of Kellin locking the door only seemed to heighten the tension.

"You can place your things in the closet-" Kellin breathed out slowly. "if- if you wanna stay with me, of course, you don't need to if you don't wanna or aren't ready."

Victor finally forced himself to look at Kellin. Something about seeing that Kellin too was anxious was... Easing. Because finally there was a mutual feeling between them. Or at least Victor felt like it.

"I'll stay with you," Victor said simply. Kellin relaxed immediately, nodding a little. Victor offered him a small smile that wasn't a hundred per cent truthful but it was truthful enough. And with that Victor was leaving the living room to go to Kellin's - no, it's theirs. Their bedroom. Victor went to their bedroom. Kellin just remained there, standing completely still.

Victor's head wasn't the only one plagued by memories. Filled with the regretful things Kellin's issues led him to say, filled to the brink with the good and the bad, the negligent that outlived the lovely. Kellin dragged one hand through his hair slowly, letting the shaky breath he was holding in out. He swallowed hard. Then he awkwardly placed himself on the edge of the couch, completely out of place in his own house.

Not home. House.

Kellin was fairly sure that his home wasn't as much of a home anymore; the guilt piled up inside of him loudly enough. Though, Kellin would fight for his redemption with tooth and nail.

Victor came back in a matter of minutes, eyes flickering everywhere, shoulders stooped low, lips sealed shut. Kellin watched every movement of his with the corner of his eyes, the knots on his stomach seeming to grow up and onto his throat and chest and suddenly breathing was the hardest task ever because his ribs were cold iron and his insides were completely compressed.

But he needed to move, needed to change, needed to make his home feel like home again, needed to take a mouthful of air because it's been too long without breathing. So Kellin was suddenly standing up and turning up the television and Victor watched a little bewildered and definitely not knowing what to do with himself as Kellin used his phone to put on youtube and a video that Victor couldn't get a glimpse of the name because Kellin was quickly in front of him, hand extended hesitantly, face a little too serious yet so determined, so nervous, so worried.

The song started and Victor couldn't help the way he visibly faltered. Kellin swallowed hard under Victor's pained stare. But despite his hesitance, his obvious unwillingness, Victor still grasped Kellin's hand back, letting himself be pulled up. And they were together once again. The soft morning ray lights shone down on the wooden floor so calmly, so warmly, the air peacefully doing its thing, the chirping and vehicles' noises were so ordinary but so soothing all the same because everything was soothing. They were close, so close. Chests pressed together, Victor's head on Kellin's shoulder, hand in hand, Kellin's chin resting atop Victor's head. And they were swaying from side to side with the softest smile, with the softest touch, with the softest eyes. They were soft. Peaceful. Exhaling love in wide crashing waves, appreciative of the proud, high foam crown it held, the life it carried with, the life it soothed with. 

The life it gave.

The life it took. 

Because the sun wasn't shining on the ground anymore, couldn't with the grey clouds blocking the path. The air was heavy and unbreathable, the world outside eerie silent. Suffocating. And the once gorgeous, peaceful waves were now wide, scary, at war. They were merciless and they drowned and they killed and they washed away. The dream turned into a nightmare.

The touches weren't certain anymore. Kellin's arms around Victor's neck wasn't loose, Victor's hands were too forced as they laced together behind Kellin's back. His head wasn't on Kellin's shoulders, there were no loving smiles. Their eyes didn't meet once. There was so much doubt and discomfort. 

But they still swayed slowly. They still danced awkwardly, like inexperienced teenagers, still kept their hands on each other, still stood close though not nearly as close as they ever did before. Until Victor lingered. Stopped for a second, made Kellin look at him with a knowing pained look that Victor didn't meet because maybe this is it for us. Maybe we're unfixable. Maybe there's no turn back now, maybe there's nothing-

Just like that Victor's head was on Kellin's shoulder again. Their chests weren't touching, their knees weren't bumping together now and then. But god, fuck, it bloomed. Kellin's chest melted with relief and hope and he couldn't help the breathy sigh that left him because maybe they could fix it, maybe they could sew it back together and care for it with their entire beings, maybe they could cradle it and kiss it and cherish it because it had been gone for too long and Kellin's eyes were glistening as he swallowed hard because _there was hope_. 

And he could breathe. His arms loosened, his eyes fluttered shut.

The song ended. They didn't move other than their slow sway. They stood there frozen in time, wishing for what it was, searching on how it would be, wondering and pondering over the cold, whether it was safe to be warm in the summer ever again. Whatever it was, whatever that came, how easy was to stay? And how speechless, painless would it be? How gloomy would it be? How bright?

Victor's head sunk further into Kellin's shoulder with a heavy sigh. One of Kellin's hands slid down from the back of his neck to his back carefully, too scared to touch Victor. And as understandable as it was, it was still painful. It made Vic want to run. He didn't.

He stood there as Kellin brushed the hair away from the back of his neck, scraping the skin there softly, calmingly, metaphorically light. Victor could almost hear the tick-tock, could almost hear the soft murmured wake-up's, could almost hear the time slipping away. Because it was slipping away, like water on a bucket filled with tiny little holes, it was dripping and it was unstoppable and Victor didn't know what to do anymore but stand there frozen, watching every single drop passing by his hands, always sliding away.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Kellin spoke, finally, breaking the silence that Victor wished was unbreakable. Victor shook his head a little.

Please just let me bask at this moment.

But Kellin didn't catch his silent drift.

"You need to eat something, Victor," Kellin reprimanded softly. "Let's go out, then, yeah?" Kellin murmured, burying his nose on Victor's hair. Victor's shoulders slumped. Let's start it all again, then. Let's keep the vicious cycle alive and unhealthy, let's pretend one more time. Victor breathed out slowly. He would hope that things would be different from before, expected a change but he knew that that glimmer of hope would only set him aflame with regret and hurt later on. So he just nodded. Ready to be nothing but a friend once again. 

No, not ready. Dreading. This was a hit he couldn't take. But he'd try to, of course, anything. 

Victor would guess from there.

So they got themselves ready and Victor, overthinker little Victor, was already seeing the twenty different ways this could end. Was sure that they would end like this. Couldn't imagine Kellin going past himself, couldn't see things turning all sparkles and flowers and chocolates, couldn't see the difference. But. It was time for him to prove himself, right? Time for him to show Victor that he had truly changed as he said so.

Victor truly couldn't help the way he guarded himself. His denim jacket wasn't only in case it started to rain — the grey hovering above was, in fact, saying it was a huge possibility — but a sort of armour he had. Something he did in his teen years that stuck for this long as silly as it was. He was aware it was kinda dumb but he truly didn't mind because like it or not, it felt as it worked and had for as long as he remembered. Besides, it wasn't as dumb if he was the only one that knew the jacket's purpose.

There he was, shutting the door of the car with his white flag waving around already, a heavy sigh leaving his lips, tired eyes expectant. Kellin could only allow his stomach to knot as he noticed the wariness and cautiousness on the face of his lover. 

Though, looking past the guilt and the sickness already pooling in his guts, Kellin was walking to the other side, motioning for Victor to follow him into the relatively good restaurant.

Neither side made an advance to have a hold of each other's hands. Victor wasn't surprised at the clench on his heart. Kellin was struggling too hard on whether he should or not. It wasn't even that big of a deal, they both thought, it's nothing. Why does it matter anyway, Victor kept thinking. Why can't I just do it, Kellin kept thinking.

In the end, they just walked into the restaurant with Victor slightly behind Kellin, hands dangling by their sides.

They found their seats and Victor sat down while Kellin stood up, thinking a little too hard on where he should seat. Victor looked up at him and quirked one eyebrow. Kellin swallowed hard before he sat down beside Vic. Victor raised his other eyebrow questioningly. Kellin just shrugged. At least something different Kellin could do. Victor didn't think much about it. Kellin would have deflated if he knew. But he didn't and that was positive for him because it meant that he didn't have thirty more things to overthink.

The waitress came and took their orders and they waited in silence because Kellin couldn't come up with anything to say and Victor wasn't bothering being present because maybe if he wasn't present it wouldn't hurt nearly as much. Kellin kept twirling his ring and glancing at Victor all the time and Victor didn't really bother calling him out on it. Kellin cleared his throat.

"You been... Alright this week?" 

Victor blinked, turning to look at him. He stared for a few seconds, enough to make Kellin's nervousness grow beyond what it was. 

"Yeah," Victor answered. "You?"

"Yeah, of course. Been alright, okay, fine. Missed you though," Kellin said it all really quick. Victor beamed a little.

"Cute."

Kellin frowned.

"I'm not cute," He grumbled with a pout. Victor's beam got a little more genuine.

"Sometimes you are."

"No, you."

"Shush and take the compliment."

They had a staring match for about three seconds before Kellin rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he grumbled. Victor chuckled almost too sad because he knew that had it been before, Kellin would keep his ground until he lost his goddamn voice and even then he would write down on paper all the reasons of why Victor was wrong and then he would mumble to himself all the reasons of why Victor was the absolute cutest right after.

Maybe Kellin wasn't ready to go back into the playfulness they used to have, maybe Kellin wasn't ready to say it all out loud because someone could eavesdrop and god forbid a stranger knowing that Kellin was dating Victor.

Maybe Victor was just looking too much into this.

Maybe.

There wasn't much to talk about but Kellin would be damned if he allowed the awkwardness to linger.

"Well," Kellin said lightly, hands tumbling onto the table lightly. "What've been you up to?"

Victor shrugged. The waitress came back and placed their drinks in front of them before leaving with an "excuse me". Vic grabbed his straw and started playing with it, making circles onto the juice as if it would create a whole in which Victor could jump into and get the hell out of there.

"Not much," Victor said, eyes stuck onto his glass. "Got my job back. Managed to rest a bit."

"You lost your job?" Kellin asked surprised. Victor looked at him with an awkward look. Obviously. And he gave Kellin some time to think and yeah, Kellin realised. Kellin tensely took a sip of his drink.

"Well, uh," Kellin tapped his pointer finger on the table. "I'm glad you got it back."

There was an edge of softness in his voice that made Victor roll his eyes inwardly. He didn't want sympathy. Not from Kellin, especially not from him. So Victor just nodded, stirring and stirring because there was nothing else to do but wait and dread and smash the hope to the ground. After all, Victor knew better than to hope.

But it wouldn't die. The flame kept burning and alive despite the odds, it kept its rhythmic gentle sway and it kept Victor desperate because the litters of water he threw at it only made the fire dim but not vanish and oh no, that was bad, so very bad.

There was no way that Victor would survive that impact. No, he would shatter even more than he already did, he would crash again and he would burn again and he would be torn into the ground and he would bleed and lose every limb of his and yet there he was, giving Kellin the match and the gasoline, the knife and the gun, the shovel and his tombstone.

He had lost his faith in Kellin but he was still giving his entirety to that man. Tradition, maybe. A habit. An awful habit. Hell, Kellin was an addiction just as fatal as the drugs. That was beyond Victor, though. Kellin was corrosive but Victor's dependence forced his thumb onto the needle and his veins were shredded but more, he needed more, wanted, craved, would die without more.

Victor made his bed of nails and roses' thorns and he was damned to die in it. Might as well close his eyes, cross his arms on his chest and let gravity do the rest.

"Hey," Kellin said, still soft, still sounding so caring, still so... Lovingly. Unexpectedly lovingly. He reached out, a hand laying on top of Victor's, that wasn't stirring regardless of where his mind went to.

"I'm truly glad you've gotten it back. It's a great thing, really, it is."

"Thank you."

"Victor, I mean it."

"Yeah," Vic murmured. "I'm not denying it."

"Oh," Kellin let out. "Okay."

Victor let out a small hum. Kellin nodded.

And there it was again, swaying lightly, burning just a little more brightly, so nicely, taking the heat from Kellin's hand, from his hold in Victor, from his soft stare, from _him_. Victor's desperate attempts to kill hope were just that; attempts. Kellin wouldn't let it die.

Maybe that's what he wanted the entire time. Keep the hope alive while shattering Victor just for the funs and giggles, a sadistic man whose desires to kill, to play with blood, to drive his victims — perhaps just victim, perhaps everything was about Victor after all — into insanity and take himself into madness during the game, maybe it was all beyond an urge, an undeniable desire that he couldn't bother to try and stop.

And Victor resented him, couldn't trust him, couldn't stop seething for everything he took, everything he broke, couldn't take the blade out, couldn't bring himself to stop Kellin from pulling the trigger, couldn't stop Kellin from kicking the chair, couldn't stop forgiving Kellin, couldn't stop _loving_ _Kellin_.

Perhaps they were a perfect match after all. Perhaps Victor couldn't blame it all on Kellin's sadism, perhaps there was fault in his masochism. Perhaps Victor liked to bleed, liked to watch the euphoria in Kellin's face when he made Victor stare into the barrel of his 22, the absolute insanity on his eyes as Victor more than gladly dropped on his knees, shut his eyes and accepted death with wide welcoming arms. Perhaps Victor sounded the click of the gun, the thrill of knowing that with Kellin any second could be his last. Of course, he'd never known it'd come to this but he could have stopped this, could have stopped Kellin, could have stopped himself.

Perhaps he didn't want to stop himself. Perhaps he loved too much, too hard, too deep. Perhaps he had too much of himself to give, or too little.

I could go on and on and on and I'd never finish. There were factors and factors and all of them would be a little guilty. All of them would have brought those two together, all of them would have built their fate, all of them would have built _them_ and everything they knew. Everything had its own percentage in their path, undeniably so. So maybe it wasn't fair to point fingers to each other. But a stubborn part of Victor that had clung onto his love for so long was now clinging onto the bitterness and damnit, Victor couldn't fight the waves no matter how hard he tried to sink his toes into the sand. They would still come high and proud and they would clash on the shore and if Victor stood there, waiting, staring off, emotionlessly, the waves would take him down and out. And they tasted disgusting. They tasted of hate and pain and they were violent and sore.

Kellin made a motion to take his hand away from Victor's and that snapped him off of his staring context with their hands.

"Too much?" Kellin asked in a weak whisper, his palm resting near Victor's hand but not touching it. Victor looked up at him.

Not enough.

Vic tentatively grasped Kellin's hand, their fingers shyly lacing together. Far too unknown to each other. Kellin gave Victor's hand a soft squeeze. Victor looked away from Kellin but he didn't let go of his hand.

There wasn't any sort of talking from them after that, they didn't have anything to talk about. Although, maybe there was too much that was left unsaid. Too much that should have been addressed but wasn't, too much that could lead to potential disaster, too much that could have been better had they learned from those past mistakes.

But they dove right back into silence. They bled out just to forcefully cover the infected wound back up with no kind of cleaning.

It could be fatal.

The waitress came back with their plates and Victor already loosened his hand because he could feel Kellin's hand going clammy and he knew what came next. Victor wasn't surprised when Kellin let go of him reflexively.

What was surprising, though, was that after a moment of hesitancy, Kellin's hand was back there again. And before the waitress left, too. She didn't look twice at their hands resting conjoined atop the table. But that didn't make Kellin's now tight grip loosen up.

Once she left, Victor looked at Kellin wonderingly, almost amazed. Kellin's lips were tight and his eyes were wandering too much and he seemed beyond uncomfortable but he still held onto Victor.

Vic softened.

"You don't have to make yourself uncomfortable," Victor mumbled, removing his own hand to place it atop his thighs. Kellin blinked at him.

"I'm not uncomfortable," Kellin said uncomfortably. Victor sent him a pointed look. Kellin rolled his eyes. "I want to do this, Victor. I want to be able to hold your goddamn hand. You're my boyfriend, for god's sake. I want to be able to do the bare minimum."

Victor sighed softly. My boyfriend. The relief that washed over Victor was unreal. So the hope was mutual. Victor knew that he'd hate to see Kellin go, hate to be the one that told him to.

"Thank you."

But he wasn't sure what he was thanking Kellin for. The minimum was still the minimum. But. Whatever. It was something they had to overcome, maybe, something big for Kellin, something Victor did without a single thought. And Kellin seemed to be thinking the very same thing by the look he was giving Victor but all he did was nod.

They ate in silence. Their hands didn't meet again but that was expected since they were using those for something else. They met eyes now and then and there wasn't any sort of tense quick looking away's. Their stare lingered, lips curling just a little bit. Blissfully so.

Victor wasn't nearly as pessimistic, mainly pleasantly surprised. A glimpse of the relationship he so dearly wished for, a truthful promise of change. The newfound gleam in his gaze made Kellin's eyes sparkle.

And then they were done. Kellin made Victor grumble under his breath because he paid for their lunch when he wasn't looking and maybe that got a chuckle and a grin from them both.

The normalcy was seen with such bright, joyful eyes. Victor could feel the entire world shifting into something else, something beautiful and big and better. There was a drastic distinction between the raging storm Victor and Kellin were leaving behind and the warm sun rising in their horizon. Victor looked like a completely different person. Kellin's chest wrenched at the sight.

Kellin had missed his little sunshine so much. He was so glad his angel came back. So damn glad.

Victor swung their hands back and forth, the shadow of a grin in his face and the corner of his eyes crinkled. Kellin couldn't draw his eyes away from Vic. The park was clear, not many people walking around and the ones that were walking around truly couldn't give a fuck about them. And at some point they stopped giving a fuck about them too. Kellin at first would flinch from both Victor and the passersby but something in how the light in Victor's eyes dimmed every single time he did that made him clutch as tight as he could onto a carelessness he didn't have in himself.

The way Victor would look at him in silent awe after someone passed by and Kellin remained the same as he did in their secludedness untangled the knots in his guts. Victor, it was about Victor, it was about them, not others. It was about _them_.

They found themselves on a bench a little further inside the park. There was a little more of people there but Victor managed to keep his panic at bay without even knowing so. Even if Kellin was left breathless when someone looked for a little too long. That person wasn't nearly as important to him as Victor was. Victor was everything.

And Victor knew he was pushing sometimes. Knew that leaning close to Kellin purposefully when someone walked by was pushing, that having their sides glued together so visibly was pushing, that leaning his head in Kellin's shoulder was pushing. Knew that bringing the back of his hand to his lips was pushing. But Victor wasn't perfect. Hell, he didn't do it so others could see them, he did it because his chest was so warm and his heart was bathing in contentment, did it because he was in love and his love couldn't be contained. Though Victor held himself when Kellin's hand trembled or when his breath became uneven. He knew he was pushing but he knew some moments shouldn't be pushed. He didn't need Kellin breaking.

The movement decreased quite a bit so Victor allowed his eyes to flutter shut once his head was snug in Kellin's shoulders. Kellin didn't feel tense, no one else in sight.

Or, perhaps, not on their sight.

Victor was laughing so freely. Kellin told him one of his stupid stories from work that sometimes delighted Victor plentifully, some hilarious mistakes that were either too bizarre or too common. Victor liked the bizarre ones.

Kellin was laughing too, silently, chest barely rumbling. His eyes were fluttered shut his mouth resting in Victor's hair, lips unable to curl down. It was a sweet moment, truly so, but Victor kept hearing this one silent noise that ticked him off ever so slightly. A click from somewhere nearby that Victor could only ignore for so long. His eyes fluttered open.

"You've been hearing this too?" Victor asked out of nowhere. Kellin opened his eyes as well.

"What?"

"You've been hearing this too?"

"Hearing what?"

"Dunno. Sounds like a... A click? I'm not sure."

And Victor realised he had said something wrong because Kellin was tensing under him, head whiplashing up as he turned his eyes everywhere and nowhere. Victor turned to look at him before there was yet another click. The colour from Kellin's face drained.

"Hey!" Kellin shouted in the noise's direction. Victor blinked when he saw someone jumping from the bushes, a camera in hand. They ran for their damn life. Victor blinked again.

"Fuck," Kellin let out strangled. He forcefully dragged his hands through his hair. "Fuck! Now- fuck, everyone's gonna see me with _you_ , damnit, everyone's gonna know, everyone's- everyone's-"

Kellin stopped once his eyes fell on Victor. He was looking down, lips tight in distaste. His eyes were wounded, flickering all around the damn grass. Was it really such a bad thing to be seen with Victor? Was Victor the damn problem? And this felt like the start all over again. They were at the same place they left. Kellin immediately began shaking his head, fixing his hair.

"They'll see me with you. They'll see me with my boyfriend. There's nothing wrong with that, I'm out anyway, there's nothing bad about this. Nothing's wrong, it's all good, all okay."

Victor said nothing, still. Kellin stared at him and his eyes trailed to the ground.

"Victor-"

"Let's go home," Vic cut him off softly. And it felt so wrong, so off, so bad. Kellin was fucking everything up again and he kept tying his own damn noose, fuck's sake, he kept digging his own damn grave. Victor got up with a sigh, looking at Kellin for a moment too long. Kellin was so hopeless, shoulders slumped, so apologetic all over again. "Let's go home," Victor repeated, extending his hand. Kellin stared. He exhaled. He grasped it back. Victor offered him a small smile along yet another chance.

Kellin truly did not deserve this angel.

He was unsure, truly so. He could never be enough for Victor, could never love him as much as he loved him, could never show nearly as much as Victor showed. Victor was everything. Kellin was nothing. And yet he was holding Kellin up, assuring with only one look that it's okay, it's alright, you did good, we're good.

"I love you," Kellin said weakly. Victor's smile seemed to turn a little more genuine. Though maybe not one hundred per cent.

"I love you too," Victor squeezed his hand. Even if the glint in his eyes was faded. Even if the fire of hope was dimming. "I love you too," he said again, a slightly sad whisper that Kellin didn't catch on. A doubtful whisper that seemed to carry a final breath.

Kellin smiled thankfully. Victor smiled weakly.


End file.
